


Demonized

by Deeranger, palishere



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Sex, Angst, Blackmail, Blood, Blood As Lube, Bottom Sam, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dean is In Over His Head, Demon Sex, Demons, Dominance, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Emotional Manipulation, Fear, Forced Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Manhandling, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Porn With Plot, Rape, Rimming, Rough Sex, Sad, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Violence, Spitroasting, Tied-Up Dean Winchester, Tied-Up Sam Winchester, Triggers, Violence, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-05-12 03:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 56,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19220614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deeranger/pseuds/Deeranger, https://archiveofourown.org/users/palishere/pseuds/palishere
Summary: During a hunt things go horribly wrong and Sam suddenly finds himself tied down and surrounded by demons - but he knows that his brother isn't far behind, coming to his rescue. What he doesn't know is what exactly the demons are planning and what their true agenda is. Their instructions are very clear though: Capture the Winchesters - break one but not the other.(Set in the middle of season 2)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A collaboration between me and the lovely @palishere on Tumblr. Heed the warnings!!! This fic is pretty much as dark (read: fucked up) as it gets! You're welcome. :)

 

 

 

The room smells like dirt and sweat, particles of dust floating through the air only to disappear somewhere in the darkness. Sam’s hands test the ropes around his wrists once more as he sits there tied up in a solid, wooden chair. His face is swollen and bruised - compliments of the beatings he has just received from the surrounding demons.

 

One of the bastards is holding Sam’s phone and is curiously scrolling through the various numbers stored on it, the light from the display hitting his face at a strange angle which makes him look even more creepy. He quickly finds Dean's name on the device and pushes the dial button, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. While he waits for the other hunter to pick up, another demon is silently threatening Sam by nudging his pointy, black dress shoe into the crotch of his jeans. Pain throbs everywhere in Sam’s body already, and he is exhausted from fighting. A small part of him wishes that he could just pass out. But unconsciousness seems miles away, and before long he hears his brother's voice on the other end of the line when the call is answered.

 

"Sam? Where are you? You've been gone for six hours!" Dean's voice says.

 

Sam frowns slightly. Only six hours? It feels like he's been here for six days! His lips press into a thin line, and he hears the demon behind him let out a sigh. As the one next to him nudges at his privates through his jeans with the nose of his shoe, Sam stays completely unresponsive. If they want him to scream, they are going to have to try harder than that, he thinks to himself through the roar of the pulse in his ears. But even though he clenches his jaw muscles in visible defiance, Sam can’t hide the fact that he is exhausted. In fact he is so fatigued that his eyelids feel heavy, and for now his struggle to free himself from the ropes binding him to the chair has ceased.

 

A demon suddenly waves the phone in front of Sam’s face, its light flashing in his eyes, to make sure that he is still awake and alert. The hunter’s face automatically scrunches up from the bright light, and he turns his head away stubbornly. With nostrils flaring with both fear and contempt Sam tries to stare down the demons surrounding him, but the foot in his crotch is getting both heavier and more painful by the second, breaking his concentration.

 

"Sammy...? Sam? Hey? Are you okay?" Dean's voice asks, his voice pouring out through the cell phone still in the demon's hand. Sam is about to speak when one of the black-eyed creatures yanks his head back by the hair, causing him to let out a hiss from the sudden stinging in his scalp.

 

"I'm afraid Sammy’s a bit tied up at the moment..." the demon with the phone says.

 

"Who the fuck is this?" Dean's voice asks, his voice spiteful and angry. Sam shivers and suppresses a grunt of protest when the foot presses harder, pain shooting through him.

 

"Dean, I'm-I'm okay! Just don't come for me, they're—"

 

A blow to the side of his face silences him abruptly. The demon standing behind Sam yanks at his hair once more, and his other hand hurries to clamp over his mouth at the same time. Instantly the hunter starts to breathe rapidly through his nose, but seconds later the demon cuts off the air supply all together with his broad hand now covering Sam’s nose as well.

 

"Mppfggghhh!" he wheezes just before he loses the ability to produce any sound at all. Behind him his hands - which are tied tightly to the back of the chair – squeeze, open and clench repeatedly. Simultaneously his feet shuffle helplessly against the cement floor, ankles bound uncomfortably tight to the chair legs. Thirty seconds go by slowly, and Sam's vision is starting to blur as he shakes his head in a poor attempt to dislodge the hand.

 

"Gonna scream for us now?" one of the demons asks and lets his tongue lightly swipe against the shell of his ear. Sam shudders and begins to thrash back and forth in the chair when the corners of his vision start to turn dark. Tears are slowly forming in the corners of his eyes, and he squeezes them firmly shut while he focuses his body on not passing out.

 

"Sam...!? What the hell do you want, scumbags!?" Dean's voice booms through the phone.

 

"Oooh...! We want you, Dean. We always wanted you..." the demon with the phone says, the others chiming in like a well-rehearsed choir.

 

Finally the demon removes his hand from Sam’s mouth and nose - and the young hunter’s eyes shoot open when he gasps and wheezes loudly, coughing when his lungs fill to the brim. He still thrashes, heaving for air while desperately trying to move violently enough for the demons to lose their grip on him. But his hands grab a hold of the chair’s legs when he discovers that he can't scream - because the demon has covered his mouth again, suffocating any sound he might want to make. At least he can breathe through his nose now, he realizes feverishly. But Dean needs to know that he's okay.

 

"Your brother is looking tremendously delicious right now, by the way. He's a real treat," one of the black-eyed figures says. Another one licks a long, wet trail up the side of Sam's neck, making him cringe. As the salty taste of sweat and fear spreads on the demon's tongue he grabs Sam's thigh, roughly kneading the thick muscle hiding under the denim.

 

"We might have to test out just how delicious he is..." the demon mumbles. Sam tries to thrash to free himself of the ropes - but with all of those hands on him, the foot in his crotch and the lack of oxygen in his lungs he really isn't able to move much.

 

"I'm gonna put Sam's phone on FIND ME. When you're not too busy, come join us!" the demon with the phone smiles, clearly taunting Dean on the other end with its amorous tone of voice.

 

"No! Sam! Sam, I'm comin—"

 

'CLICK' - the demon tosses Sam's cell, the plastic device bumping and skidding across the dirty concrete floor with a rattle. One of the demons moves down to kneel between Sam's spread legs, each ankle tied to a leg of the chair. Sam can’t help but to scream out to Dean in his mind. Begging him. Both to not turn up all and to hurry before anything else happens.

 

"Nnngh! Fckk! Nnnn!" Sam hisses, and the hand is finally somewhat removed from his mouth, allowing him to breathe properly again. Desperately he tries to bring his knees together, but the demon on the ground holds his legs apart easily. An insistent hand rubs against the bulge in his jeans, kneading it eagerly.

 

"What do we have here...?" the black-eyed man whispers.

 

"Get your hands off me!" Sam yells, straining against the ropes. The other two demons snicker at the helpless demand, glaring down at Sam like two towering columns of pitch black shadow. Superior. The one standing behind Sam grabs a larger handful of his hair and pushes his head down so he can see the bulge in his jeans, long finger splayed out over it. He lets out a pant of frustration and disgust when the demon between his legs begins to slowly play with his zipper's pull tab.

 

"Look at yourself," the demon behind Sam commands.

 

"Nnn... Don't...!" Sam says, eyes widening as he stares hatefully down at the demon by his feet.

 

"Aww. Don't pretend you don't like it, Sammy," the demon taunts, and he pushes his hand inside the jeans, fondling the young hunter in a surprisingly soft manner. Sam jerks his arms, praying that the legs of the chair will give way – but of course they don’t budge. The demon on the ground only laughs at his attempt at breaking free, watching him in amusement with his black eyes - only to suddenly grab a solid hold of Sam's uninterested cock, giving it a warning squeeze. Sam lets out a shocked yelp. And really, he wants nothing more than to scream for his brother, but he can only begin to imagine how much fun these demons would have if he did just that. Besides he doesn’t want to give them anything, doesn’t want them to know just how freaked out he is right now.

 

"Don't touch me!" he hisses, trying to pull and twist his body away from the touch even though he has absolutely nowhere to go.

 

"You know..." The first demon pipes up from the dark background as he makes pace for Sam's discarded phone.

 

"… Big brother is gonna miss a lot of the fun parts."

 

Sam can only watch as the twisted smiles grow wider and toothier on their taunting faces. He wants to scream at them at the top of his lungs, but he knows it that will do nothing but egg them on.

 

"Fuck you!" he hisses instead. It is met by laughter. The demon behind him is now peppering wet and sloppy kisses down the side of his neck while the one between his legs looks up at him with a new kind of look in his black eyes. A look that imitates one of lust. The sight makes Sam's stomach churn painfully. In the same moment the third demon picks up Sam's phone from the floor and flips the camera on, the flash shining white and bright in Sam's face as he captures an image.

 

"Beautiful! Let's see if we can work on Dean's ETA..." he says, sending Sam a wicked smile.

 

"Don't—" Sam starts, but a hard tug on his hair interrupts him – and at the same time the demon between his legs pulls out his dick, the creature's warm breath fanning across the sensitive skin. Sam gasps, mind now on high alert and body tensed up into one big knot of trembling muscle.

"Heh, heh, heh... Yeah. Get that wet. I'm sure Dean'll wanna use these later," the demon with the phone mocks, and the flash is back in Sam's face as every fine detail is carefully documented. Sam's mind is a swirl, and vomit threatens to climb the inside of his throat.

 

"So pretty," one of them taunts, letting a fingertip slide down Sam's collar and onto the little bit of exposed chest hiding under his flannel shirt. And suddenly a hand grabs a hold of the fabric, grabbing a fistful of it. 'Riiitch' - the flannel is torn, buttons flying. They land on the hard floor with small, clicking sounds, scattering everywhere. With Sam's chest now exposed the demons look almost taken aback.

 

"Stunning," one of them says, lust clearly lacing his voice. His remark is almost cut off by a sudden, loud noise, and Sam jumps in his seat – it ends up looking more like a small twitch though and not like a full-fledged flinch due to his restraints.

 

"Oh! Look! Dean's calling us...! Probably wants to know where the party is! Hahah. Think I should answer?" the demon holding the phone bursts out, his laugh low as he narrows his eyes at the display, seemingly savoring the sound of the ringtone.

 

"Shame about this..." one of the creatures says while he circles the tattoo above Sam’s heart with his finger.

 

"We could have really had some fun with you and your brother," he pouts.

 

"Oh, there is still time to have fun with both of 'em!” another demon retorts with a grin.

 

Sam flinches when a hand starts to slide down his chest, a fingertip circling the warm skin while it explores every little detail on its way. Goosebumps immediately rise on Sam's feverish skin and he tests the restraints again. The demon with the phone rejects the incoming call and immediately pulls Dean's name up on the contact screen instead. He then clicks the video call key, and the phone doesn't even ring twice before Dean can be heard screaming on the other end:

 

"Get the fuck off of him now! You want me?! I'm coming! Get the fuck off of him! Don't you dare fucking lay a hand on my brother!"

 

Dean's voice sounds panicked, yet it is teeming with fury. Breathing heavily and with tears starting to form in his eyes Sam shakes his head at the familiar voice in the phone:

 

"Dean, it's a trap! Don't come for me, just—" but he sucks in a sharp breath of air when a warm and wet mouth suddenly sucks on his cock, having him jerk in his seat.

 

"Lay a hand on him? Oh, Dean, you naïve, little boy!" the demon says and flips the camera view, showing Dean just what kind of mess Sam is in, and the older Winchester immediately goes quiet.

 

"He's having a great time! Arent'cha, Sammy?" the demon smirks.

 

"Dont!" Dean yells through the phone, his hand raking through his hair in panic.

 

Sam stays quiet. As quiet as the situation allows him to be. In response the mouth on his cock sucks a little harder, tongue swirling around the tip teasingly. Sam shudders, trying hard not to make a sound. Not to give them what they want. And he tries to move his face away from the camera. He can't stand the thought of his brother seeing him like this.

 

The demon standing behind Sam lightly trails his fingers down to one of his exposed nipples, twisting the pink nub ever so carefully. When Sam jerks at the touch, the black-eyed man brings the fingers to his mouth, getting the digits wet before rolling Sam's now hard nipple between them. Sam's face scrunches up when the other demon next to him continues to soak the side of his neck with sloppy kisses.

 

"Nggh! Stop!" Sam hisses, not able to stay quiet this time. Instantly cursing himself in his mind he falls silent again, his hands fumbling to find some way to get out of the ropes tying his arms behind his back. His fingers pull at the rope, scratch at the wooden surface of the chair, scraping and searching the best he can - because if he can find a nail in the back of the chair or a split piece of wood, he knows that he can probably turn the tables just a little more in his favor.

 

"He does like that, doesn't he…?" the demon holding the phone laughs, encouraging his friend to keep it up. And it doesn't take long for the black-eyed creature between Sam's legs to pick up its speed. Sam sinks his teeth into the side of his tongue because he doesn't trust himself to stay quiet. And unless he can get the ropes off his wrists he is truly at their mercy until Dean gets here. But his fingers can't seem to find anything that might be of use. Instead they keep searching the same spots over and over again, coming up short every time. He's helpless. And he knows it.  
A low grunt escapes him when one of the demons starts to nibble on his ear lobe - another on his nipple. And the third is bobbing up and down on his cock. Sam's mind is whirling, his breathing ragged and shallow, and he swallows down the pleas he so desperately want to utter.

 

"Nnnn! Ah!" Sam bursts out, biting back a growl when a demon's tongue is licking into his ear. He tries to pull away, but there is truly nowhere for the young Winchester to go. The demons are everywhere. Sam throws his head back, his eyes glued to the rusted roof above. He can feel a fire burning deep inside of him, though he tries to deny it. His knuckles are white as milk as they hold on to the chair's legs. Is Dean still on the phone? Jesus, he hopes not.

 

"I think he likes it," one of black-eyed bastards chuckles.

 

"So pretty for us," another smirks.

 

The wet, slurping noises the demon's mouth makes around Sam's cock are obscene and filthy, and Sam can't help but suppress a whimper. And a hand is suddenly shoved further into his jeans, fondling his balls. To his horror the fingers seem to be trying to push their way further into his pants, moving towards his ass. He's overloaded with sensation. There's too much happening. There's too much touching. So much he can't think straight at all. And to his horror Sam realizes that his body is slowly starting to respond even though he feels like throwing up. He then feels a cold finger nudge his hole, making him instantly clench the muscle.

 

"Ah!! No! No. No. No....!" Sam says breathlessly. But he can't protest for much longer, because the demon kissing his neck is now coming too close to his open mouth. The demon licks a tongue over his bottom lip, and Sam immediately flinches away, letting out a distressed sound. But quickly the demon grabs a fistful of hair, stopping him from jerking away too far.

 

"Stop! Don’t!" Sam manages to burst out just before a wet mouth presses down on his, muffling his protests.

 

"Now, now... Be a good boy and hold still," the demon between his legs says, snaking his hand a bit further into the jeans.

 

"He's getting close... Don’t you dare fucking cum, you little slut!" one of the creatures barks, and Sam can't help but whimper at the words. Because they are true. Despite his disgust and the horror rippling through him he has grown hard. Rock hard. He has never felt more humiliated in his life, and his cheeks turn a deep shade of pink.

 

Then the finger at his hole presses harder, forcing itself inside just a tiny bit – and Sam instantly jerks in his chair, fingers helplessly clutching the ropes around his wrists. In an act of defiance Sam grits his teeth and bites the demon's intruding tongue. But to his horror the black-eyed man is completely unaffected, and all that is gained is the accompanying taste of copper in his mouth. The grip on his hair only tightens, and the mouth invading his own works even harder, grinding against him and spilling scarlet drops of blood into it.

 

"Like it rough, Sammy? We'll be rough..." the demon between Sam's legs says - and with that the dry finger presses in to the first knuckle. Sam bucks, whipping his head as far back as he can, managing to dislodge the mouth intruding on his own. And he tries to scream.

 

"Ngghh-no!!!" Sam cries, thrashing - but he instantly stills when it only makes the intruding finger press into him further. The pain rippling through him is vicious, yet still the mouth working on his cock and the overload of sensation coming from seemingly every direction have his gut slowly starting to pool with something he didn't think possible. Need. Horror washes through him. And before he can stop himself he whispers a 'please' into the bloody demon mouth now latching on to his lips again. At the same time the other demon's bony finger is in by the second knuckle, and it starts searching for something inside of him, scratching at his insides.

 

"He's gonna fucking cum... Let him go!" one of them says.

 

And with those few words the demon pulls off his cock with a 'pop', letting it violently twitch from the sudden loss of stimulation. Sam cries out and a second and quick 'please' is lost in the demon's mouth as its tongue continues to prod inside. Sam heaves for air now, shuddering and unable to form any coherent sentences as the finger inside of him suddenly brushes against something that has him seeing stars.

 

"Don't... Don't... Don't..." he almost chants under his breath, face contorted into a pained grimace. But at the same time his body is responding to the unwanted touch by shivering and involuntarily flexing - and he finds himself pressing his body down on the intruding finger. The mouths pull off of him, and all three demons grin in success as Sam lets out a moan. His legs shake when the demon's finger bumps that spot again. A little harder this time.

 

"No! Please...!" Sam whimpers. And his body spasms when the warm, wet mouth returns to his hard shaft, bobbing eagerly up and down on it.

 

"F-Fuck...!" Sam groans, screwing his eyes shut. The demons watch him through black and hooded eyes, his body jerking between the finger ramming his prostate and the mouth swallowing him. The creature behind Sam latches back onto his mouth and shoves his tongue back in.

 

"Don’t you dare fucking cum....!" one of them commands in between its sucking and kissing.

 

"So fucking delicious, Sammy," the demon behind him growls into his mouth, lapping on his tongue.

 

"Yeah, you ain't cummin' yet, boy," it adds in a husky voice.

 

Sam’s mind is spinning and he can’t fathom what is happening. All he knows is that he is beyond overwhelmed with sensation, the physical stimuli making his heart race and try to pound its way right out of his ribcage, pulse thrumming in his ears so loudly that he has trouble deciphering what the demons are even saying to him. All he can hear right now is obscene, slurping sounds, heavy breathing and his own frantic heart rhythm.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

An almost - _almost_ \- silent whimper escapes Sam, and he jerks under the overwhelming touch coming from everywhere. He feels sick to his stomach, and he isn’t sure if he’s going to throw up or not. At the same time a weird heat pools somewhere in his gut and makes his face burn with humiliation and shame. And it only intensifies when the demon on the ground swallows his cock whole and grabs a hold of the base of it, lightly squeezing. He then gives the tip a few soft puppy licks, and Sam hisses at the burning sensation when he feels a second finger probing at his entrance.

 

"Wh-What are you doing....?" Sam asks in a panting voice. It sounds pitiful even to his own ears. But when the demon in between his legs licks the spongy head of his all too interested cock a little faster, Sam just can't hold back. With a groan he leans back his head as far as the hand grabbing his hair will allow, and he sucks in a gulp of air. The careful licks on the tip of his dick are almost too much to handle, and he can't stand the softness of them. If the demons truly want to force him they could at least make it more painful, he thinks to himself feverishly. The weird pseudo-kindness of the touch has his mind both resisting and somehow giving in at the same time - and that combination has him thrashing in the chair again. Only to be reminded of the unforgiving finger in his ass, driving itself in deeper.

 

He gasps through gritted teeth when he feels the second finger wiggle its way inside of him, and now two fingers are putting pressure on his prostate. He growls when he feels the demon's tongue slide up the underside of his shaft, hungrily exploring and soaking it in hot saliva. And then with another wet 'pop' the demon lets go of his cock - and now all Sam feels are the fingers nudging his prostate, probing and pressing eagerly.

 

"Don’t you dare fucking cum!" a voice orders from somewhere. Sam bucks at the warning tone of the voice, and his glance automatically shoots down to his twitching cock. He watches the engorged flesh bounce only to slap against his belly, treacherously seeking out its own release.

 

"Ah! F-Fuck...!" he manages to grit out. And then the prodding fingers find his prostate again, and Sam's body tries to pull off the chair as he arches both away and into the awfully blissful touch.

 

"Oh, god!" he moans, and he thinks for sure that he is going to blow. His toes curl in his shoes, and his eyes start to roll back into his head.

 

"Oh! Fuck! Ah! Fuuuck!"

 

The demon behind him pulls at his hair and roughly rips his head back once more. Sam's eyes blink a tear away, and it slowly rolls down his face in a glistening line. The demon towering above him doesn't miss the opportunity to lick it up before he shoves his tongue back in between the hunter's slightly parted lips. And now Sam can't speak. The creature’s invading tongue feels like it is trying to push itself all the way down his throat, lapping and swirling around inside and nearly suffocating him. He can't even move properly. And hands and mouths are everywhere on his body, making something that feels like electric currents shoot through him from every direction with lightning speed and sickening intensity.

 

For what feels like a long moment the creatures just leave him like that. Breathing hard through his nose, his fingers helplessly clutching the hemp rope tying his hands together and his eyes screwed shut in humiliation, fear and an arousal which he doesn't at all welcome or understand. Fingers keep relentlessly nudging his prostate, and Sam bucks and jerks against them, rolling his hips as need floods his mind. Not that he has to - because the demon seems to know exactly where the bundle of nerves is located, working at it with scary precision.

 

"I think he really likes it!" one of the black-eyed men says, his tongue snaking up Sam's neck only to play with the shell of his ear, leaving a wet trail behind.

 

"Yea, I think he does!" another responds.

 

Sam's head nearly lolls back further when yet another tongue darts into his mouth, licking and nipping at his lower lip, kissing it vigorously and leaving bruises and scrapes on the sensitive, pink skin. With two mouths now on his own he lets out a muffled whimper.

 

"Let's give him what he really wants," one of them greedily whispers into his abused mouth and then reaches down, gliding its fingers along the ropes tying Sam's wrists together on the back of the chair. His cheeks are burning fiercely, and his mind spins. He can literally do nothing but just sit here and let them do whatever they want to him. Take what they are dishing out. But even though his body is betraying him, the thought of his brother and a longing for freedom is still his main focus.

 

A small spark of hope ignites somewhere inside him when he feels one of the demon's hands brush over the rope, and he silently thinks to himself, his expression never changing, that if they untie him he will kill at least one of them before they even have the time to blink. Letting his head rest in another set of hands he focuses on the fingers brushing against his wrists, praying that the demons buy his act and think that he's compliant enough. The room is dead quiet - except for labored breathing - as the creature’s bony fingers caress the knots on the hemp rope, slowly starting to loosen them. But with a soft caress the fingers suddenly still, playing with the end of the rope.

 

"Are you gonna behave?" the demon above him asks, pulling back a little along with his friend and finally breaking the unwanted kiss which has left Sam's lips feeling raw and swollen. Silence follows the question and it is ringing in Sam's ears almost painfully, heavy and suffocating - and demanding an answer. Any answer. But he is unable to speak with his heart nearly leaping out of his chest, and he can only manage to nod silently. The demons snicker, seemingly satisfied.

 

"You guys ready?" The demon between Sam's legs then asks and retracts his fingers - only to confidently put both of his hands on the ropes around the hunter's ankles. Sam's heart does a painful double beat in his chest. They're demons; they're evil, but they’re not stupid. And he realizes that they are not just going to untie him without taking precautions. Apparently they are not going to let go of him for just a second as he had hoped. Unable to hide his disappointment he looks down at the black-eyed man on the ground who is wearing a way too smug smile on his face. And slowly the creature begins to untie the knots on the rope. Sam feels himself stiffen in his seat a little, afraid to act too soon and afraid to act too late all at the same time. Then the ends of the rough rope hit the floor with a soft sound, the loops around his ankles dropping down as well as those around his wrists. This is his cue.   

 

"Get off!" Sam yells from the top of his lungs, kicking at the nearest of his captors with a new-found strength. Managing to catch the creature off guard his booted foot collides with its face with a sickening, cracking sound, and the demon howls in pain, grabbing his face with an agonized scream. In the dim room the blood shooting from his nose looks pitch black.

 

For a split second the two other demons loosen their grip on Sam ever so slightly in baffled surprise. When the fingers digging into his flesh lift a little the hunter doesn't hesitate. With a roar he spins, trying to dislodge the hands holding him down. Like some sort of human death roll he twists his body and tries to gain enough momentum to completely slip out of the demons' grip. But they have him all figured out. And almost as if they can predict his every move one of them grabs his flailing hands with ease, strong fingers locking around his wrists with pieces of rope still tied around them. With a yelp Sam kicks out his legs, but the story only repeats itself. The remaining demon catches his feet mid-air and holds them steady even though Sam is kicking with all of his might.

 

"Let go!!" he hears himself yell. His voice sounds surprisingly desperate even to him, and it bounces off the walls in the dimly lit room, amplifying. Panicked and outnumbered Sam can feel himself losing the battle, and an almost animalistic cry escapes him when he is carried a few feet towards a stained mattress on the floor, two sturdy demons holding his arms and legs. Their friend - still bleeding profusely from his nose - joins them, and now all three of them work on untying the rest of the ropes all together and prepare for Sam to fight them with all he has got. The creatures hurry to put his body down on the mattress and start to tie his legs to some metal rings bolted to the floor. Sam squirms and thrashes in their grip, but his efforts are no match for their superhuman strength.

 

"He's fucking lively! Hahah! What'd'ya think, Sammy? That you were gonna be a hero?" a demon snarls.

 

"No one's gonna save you!" another spits at him. And when the first demon has tied down his left leg he signals for his accomplice holding Sam's arms to lift him up while he crawls under their thrashing victim. And then the other two continue to tie the young Winchester down on top of the first demon, Sam's back pressing against the creature's hard chest below.

 

"There we go..." one of them says. Sam's right leg is now just as immobilized as his left. Both tied and hanging uselessly off the corners of the mattress.

 

"You should have screamed for your brother when you had the chance!" one of them taunts.

 

Sam hears the demons' low laughs rumble around him, but even though he knows he is beat he doesn't allow himself to give up even though the thought is definitely there, making its presence known somewhere in his mind. But he can't give up. Not now. Because Dean is coming for him. He has to be. No, Sam knows he is. He just needs to stall these bastards long enough for him to hear the familiar roar of the Impala's engine somewhere outside of these walls. And he's going to be okay. His mind swirls as he thrashes back and forth, strained grunts pouring from his mouth while he heaves for air. 

 

The demons marvel at Sam's strength. It takes a surprising amount of force to stretch each of his arms out to the metal rings as they loop the ropes painfully tight around the reddened wrists. Sam hisses at the burning sensation as one wrist - then the other - is brought down and finally immobilized above his head. A strange, guttural sound escapes him when he realizes that his arms are now held tightly in place just like his legs. He is trapped. Defeated he squirms, pulling at the ropes.

 

"We'll give you what you want, little hunter!" the demons laugh. Sam shudders. But while they keep mocking his efforts, he keeps squirming stubbornly, frantically searching for a weak spot somewhere in his new restraints. At the same time he curses himself in his mind. He should have known that he never stood a chance.

 

"You're gonna regret kicking me, Sammy," The demon lying under him on the mattress warns, and Sam feels the filthy creature start to rut against the backside of his dirty jeans. He grits his teeth, trying not to talk back while he twists his body, pulling helplessly at the hemp rope.

 

"Now, first we're gonna have to get rid of these..." the demon then says, his hands grabbing a hold of the belt loops in the hunter's jeans, tugging at them suggestively. Thick thighs are rubbing against Sam as he moves, and he can’t help but cringe. The creature lets out a grunt when it suddenly presses its crotch against Sam's behind, its hard bulge pressing against his denim-clad ass.

 

"No! Get off me...!" Sam hisses, trying his best to buck hard enough against the demon to hurt him. But the pressure from behind only intensifies as the black-eyed man pulls him even closer, his hands snaking up around Sam's waist to hold him steady. Sam's bucking only seems to add to the creature's eagerness, and it lets out a throaty moan, pushing its hard erection against him through its fancy cotton dress pants.

 

"What did you think you were gonna achieve, huh?" the biggest of the three demons asks as he stalks closer to Sam, playing with a hunting knife. When the hell did he get a hold of a knife?? Sam's mind spins frantically, but he doesn't have time or energy to answer his own question before the demon starts cutting little slits into his jeans at the ankles - only to discard the knife carelessly when he tears the rest of fabric with his bare hands. The loud sound of ripping denim fills the musty room, and Sam flinches.

 

Another demon, kneeling over his head, reaches for the bottom of the hunter's open shirt and pulls at it hard, ripping it at the seams by the shoulders. The torn fabric is then pulled over Sam's head and thrown somewhere on the floor. What's left of the sleeves now pool around his forearms. The air - even though it isn't that cold - instantly lets an uncomfortable breeze blow across his skin, nipping at the exposed flesh when his jeans are pulled away from under him far too easily. The demon below him begins to draw small circles with his nails between the hunter's belly and thighs, trailing its fingers along the slight curve of his inguinal region.

 

"Nnngh!" Sam grunts, twisting in his bonds. He can't wrap his mind around what is happening to him. Is this some sort of weird nightmare? Even though he desperately wants it to be his mind assures him that this is in fact real. This is happening. And here he is; tied down, his limbs stretched over the filthy, stained mattress. Like an animal ready for the slaughter.

 

The demon below him now has both hands on his own dress pants, and he discards the cloth separating their skin. The other two demons surrounding them make snarky comments as they watch, filthy words spewing from their mouths. And Sam clenches his jaw. He knows damn well what is coming. The heated and unwelcome skin-on-skin contact makes him involuntarily struggle so hard to break free that the restraints gnaw into his skin hard enough to break it. And as he thrashes, he feels the hard contours of the creature's way too interested cock pressing into the cheek of his ass. And then the demon shifts, lining himself up only to settle his cock between Sam’s ass cheeks. Sucking in air Sam stills for only half a second before forcing himself up on his heels, arching and twisting away to escape what is happening.

 

"Now, now... C'mon Sam—"

 

"No!" Sam yells, his gruff voice dripping with panic when the demon places a cold hand on each side of his hips. A second demon comes over, kneeling next to Sam’s waist, helping to position his struggling body over the hard cock below.

 

"Don't!"

 

The third demon standing by Sam’s other side points at his heels, nodding. The second demon takes the silent instruction to yank up the hunter’s feet, making him lose his balance instantly. Three hands then quickly help to guide his body into place, and Sam soon feels the head of a cock pushing at his clenched entrance.

 

"You take that cock there, and we'll untie your legs for the next one," one of them says. Sam barely manages to stops the bile from crawling up his throat.

 

"No! Get away from me!" he yells, voice cracking when the demon below him bucks his hips just a little bit and nudges the tip of his cock harder against the furled muscle.

 

"Aww, come on, slut. It's not like you didn't like it before," another demon taunts. Sam lets out a desperate huff mixed in with a whimper. Looking down at himself he can see that his dick is still a little hard, and his cheeks immediately flush with red. He can't be reacting this way, he thinks feverishly - and with renewed fervor he tries to twist away from the hard length prodding at his entrance. Only he can't move. The hands on him are unforgiving, holding him down and in place.

 

"Don't-Don't do this…!" he whispers hoarsely, scrunching up his face when the demon below him pushes harder. The tip of the fat cock pressing against him is threatening to breach him, and panic instantly has his mind spinning.

 

"No! Please, please no!!!" Sam cries as he is slowly being stretched, his body starting to give in to the pressure. A burning sensation is spreading slowly but surely, and helplessly he tries to clench every muscle in his body the best he can. Even though he knows it'll be less painful if he doesn't.

 

"He's even prettier when he begs," one of the demons smirks, gripping him a little harder.

 

"You should do that some more, Sammy," he snickers and looks at his black-eyed friends almost triumphantly.

 

"Don't you think, guys? Shouldn't we help Sammy beg some more?" he says, licking his lips in excitement. As he looks down at their struggling captive, Sam bites his tongue – he doesn’t want to give these bastards the satisfaction. He really doesn’t. But the hands holding him are unforgiving as they push him downwards just that tiny inch more, and he instantly cries out.

 

"Please! Please! Don't!" he croaks desperately, and his lips part in pain as the head of the demon’s cock starts to breach him. Uselessly Sam tries to kick out, his feet barely moving more than two inches from the rings bolted to the floor.

 

"Ah! Stop! Stop! It hurts!"

 

His words only result in surrounding laughter from the demons as they revel in his sounds of distress. Next thing Sam knows, he feels a hand creep around the front of his neck when the meat suit below him whispers for him to relax.

 

"Shhh," the demon hums against the shell of Sam's ear - and he presses just a bit harder. And this time the hunter’s fatigued body can no longer withstand the pressure. Screwing his eyes shut he lets out an agonized grunt when the tip of the thick cock finally slips inside of him, making a sharp pain instantly ripple through him.

 

"Fuckin' hell! You're tight, boy!" the demon beneath him groans, ignoring the young Winchester’s desperate and futile attempts to squirm away. All three demons chuckle at the incoherent pleas Sam finds himself uttering - he didn't even know that he was saying anything. But he hears himself gasping no's and ah's and please's, all jumbled up into one long stream of choked words that don't really make sense.

 

"Is he crying?" one of the demons then asks, amusement clearly present in his voice. Sam feels a cold hand grab his chin to tilt his head towards one of the black-eyed creatures towering above him. But he doesn't dare to open his eyes - instead they're still screwed shut as he helplessly heaves for air while the pleading words and noises still leave his lips in a steady flow even though he tries to muffle them.

  
"Aww, I think he is!" a demon laughs. 

 

Sam feels the feather light touch under his chin, but he doesn't dare to let himself react in any way even when he feels the warm breath of the foul creature above him. Nor does he react when its wet mouth begins to lightly press against his own. Then the demon below shifts inside of him, and Sam's lips part in pain. His mind instantly sinks into a strange and dark pit, and he finds himself hoping that they don't drag him out of it - that he can just stay there, submerged in some sort of pseudo-consciousness where reality doesn't hit him as hard. Where he can keep it at a distance and maybe not feel as much.

  
"Hey!" a voice snarls - and Sam feels his cheek getting slapped. Hard.

 

"Don't go drifting off now," the demon says, onyx eyes glistening fiercely in the dim light. Sam lets out a small, guttural sound when his mind slams right back into reality with brutal force, threatening to steal the air from his lungs. He can't escape. Not physically, not mentally. The realization has Sam whimpering into the warm mouth pressed against his own. This however only seems to spur on the demon, its tongue snaking out and exploring his mouth hungrily.

 

"I love how you taste, Sammy..." the demon purrs into his mouth, strings of saliva connecting their lips as he pulls back a little.

 

"You taste like fear. It's delicious," he says - only to plunge his tongue back into the resistant mouth below with a feral need that has Sam's stomach churning and every hair on his body standing up straight.

 

"Ugh! You feel so fucking good!" The demon nestled below him growls as he thrusts up into the clenching hole.

  
"Could probably use some lube though," he adds with an out-of-breath snicker. The third demon has both hands on Sam’s pelvic bone, his fingers latching onto his hips as he settles between his stretched legs, licking his pale lips at the sight of the boy. Azazel's boy. He leans forward after another rough thrust from his fellow demon and unceremoniously he wraps his lips around the hunter’s length, instantly shocking him and forcing a low moan from his throat.

 

Sam’s legs immediately tense from the feeling of lips around him, and his eyes squeeze shut that much harder as he tries to reject the acknowledgement of the touch that has his whole body heated. In a panic he shakes his head as he sobs out a new litany of broken ‘no's’. The creature beneath him then angles its hips a little differently, bucking against Sam's trapped body and in the process hitting something deep inside of the young Winchester that has him letting out a choked moan - but this time it isn't as full of pain as the ones leading up to it. This time there's a hint of pleasure mixed into it as well. And Sam is petrified. To his disbelief and utter horror he can feel the familiar heat reignite somewhere in his gut, and he feels himself grow fully hard once more.

 

"Please...!" he sobs against the lips crashing down on his mercilessly. But the only reaction he gets is a low chuckling from his three captors as they speed up and intensify their attack on his body.

 

"Told you we'd help you beg, Sammy," one of the demons growls breathlessly.  A wet, popping sound can then be heard when the demon tending to Sam's aching cock decides to join the conversation.

 

"Maybe we should get big brother on the phone again?" he huffs out with a laugh.

 

"No! Ughh!" Sam snaps, but he can barely keep his eyes open when his prostate is nudged again, his hips snapping upwards when his back arches. The thought that he might plead with these filthy pricks while Dean is within earshot sends chills through him.

 

A low groan can be heard from under him as the demon keeps thrusting himself into the still too dry hole, almost chafing himself as he goes. He murmurs how close he is in a voice so low that only Sam hears him. And the demon kneeling between his legs lets his tongue circle around the head of the hunter’s cock, pulling off every five seconds to ask pointless questions and make dirty remarks about the obscene act unfolding. 

 

"Does that feel good, Sammy?"

 

“Like that big cock inside of you?”

 

"You wanna come so bad?"

 

Sam can only grunt helplessly in response while he prays for the nightmare to end. The thrusts have grown much more erratic, and he finds himself hoping that as soon as the demon shoots his load, he can just rest and catch his breath. Right now the thought of struggling seems to have somehow faded, and all he can focus on is trying to keep his sanity somewhat intact while not forgetting to breathe.

 

"C'mon Sammy, beg for us! You look so pretty when you beg—"

 

"-and cry!" another demon says, pulling off of Sam’s lips to put in his two cents. Sam takes as much air into his lungs as he can manage in the short amount of time he is given before the creature licks a line up his neck and across his jaw – only to dart its tongue back into his resisting mouth.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

"I don't think we should let him cum. I think we should keep him desperate for more," the demon between Sam’s legs says breathlessly. Instantly the others let out chuckles of approval, clearly excited about this new plan.

 

“Stop…!” Sam whimpers into the hot mouth covering his own – but of course no one takes any notice of his protests. Instead the demon beneath him is picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing turning ragged and irregular. Sam can feel his breath hitting the shell of his ear in rapid gusts of hot air, small grunts accompanying each vicious thrust.

 

“Fuck, so fucking good!” the demon groans, slamming his hips against Sam eagerly as he starts to tense up. Every now and again he makes sure to hit that little, treacherous bundle of nerves inside of Sam which makes ripples of strange pleasure wash through him, creeping into his system and mixing with the pain and humiliation. Feeling a tear break free and run down his cheek Sam whimpers something muffled into the mouth attacking his.

 

“Wanna talk to big brother, Sammy?” the mouth moans against his lips, tongue licking across the flesh which is swollen and bruised from the rough treatment.

 

“Huh? Wanna tell him how hard your cock is for us?” the demon continues, sucking Sam’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping and pulling at it with his teeth.

 

“N-No…!” Sam manages to utter, pure dread all too present in his voice. In the same moment the creature between his legs pulls off of him, fishing Sam’s phone out of one of the pockets in his fancy suit. The young Winchester’s body involuntarily shudders at the sudden lack of mouth covering his swollen cock, leaving it to throb and twitch in the stale air of the small room. His hands feel cold and numb, his body tingly and his vision is blurred, but he can just make out the upward crook in the creature’s mouth above him. The demon says something and even though he's right in front of Sam, he doesn’t hear a word of it – he just watches the demon’s lips move. _'Finally'_ Sam thinks to himself, internally begging for the unconscious world to just take him.

 

"Ey! Ey! Ey! Don’t you dare pass out on us!"

 

Sam feels a few slaps to his cheek, making his eyes flutter open. He hadn’t realized that he had closed them to begin with. By reflex he gasps out a moan that shocks his system back into play when the demon beneath him brushes against that spot inside of him again - and the alluring prospect of passing out is torn from him.

 

"That’s it...!" a voice coaxes.

 

"Dean…"

 

Sam can’t see the demon, but he has no doubt that bastard has his brother on a video call.

 

"Got any better on that ETA?" the demon snickers into the phone.

 

"Oh? How’s your brother? Why don’t you ask, hang on..." he continues ominously, turning around a little to share the view.

 

"Sammy!?" Dean’s concerned voice yells through the phone.

 

"Look how well his pretty hole swallows that cock... Man, I can’t wait to have my turn with him. Don’t worry, he ain't goin' nowhere…" the onyx-eyed man sneers back into the phone. The creature beneath Sam pushes its hips back up to greet the hunter’s, its cock slamming into his prostate, and Sam can’t help but let out a strangled moan.

 

“You bastards!! I swear to God I’ll kill every single one of you…!!” Dean’s voice shouts through the phone, the sharp sound bouncing off the walls in the small and dark room. Sam’s eyes well with new tears by the sound of desperation in his brother’s voice, and he curses himself in his mind when another moan escapes his lips. He wants to cry out, he wants to beg Dean to come and save him. To just get him out of here. But at the same time he wants his brother to stay as far away from here as he can possibly get.

 

“Dean…” Sam says, voice trembling and cracking even though he tries to keep it steady. He isn’t sure that it came out audible though – because it was just a whisper. Maybe that is for the best, he thinks frantically.

 

“Sam!? Sammy!!?” Dean’s voice calls on the other end of the phone line. Sam tries his best to swallow another moan which threatens to spill from his mouth when the demon below him rams into him once more, and he takes a deep breath.

 

“I’m-I’m here…!” he manages to stutter, voice jerky and uneven from the thrusts rocking his body back and forth.

 

“Hold on! I’m comin’ for ya! I’m comin’, Sammy, please, just hang in there!” Dean yells, static drizzling the connection with white noise.

 

“Dean! They’re too many!! They’re—“ Sam begins, but in the same second the hungry mouth above his mutes the rest of the sentence, lips slamming against lips and a greedy tongue plunging back into his mouth. Panicked Sam shakes his head, trying to dislodge the demon in order to warn his brother, bile and vomit crawling up his throat when rough fingers grasp his hair to hold him still. He doesn’t remember doing it, but his eyes are suddenly squeezed shut again, trying to push away the sight of the demons using him.

 

"Oh, Dean..." a voice tsks.

 

"I sure hope for baby brother’s sake that you aren't too far away. Poor kid doesn’t look like he can take much more. And we have so much more to give him..." the voice continues.

 

"Gonna do it for us, Sammy? Gonna scream for your brother?"

 

Sam feels the hot breath on his ear from beneath coming closer just before a tongue dips inside the shell. Then his eyes roll to the back of his head, his body reluctantly slipping into a new-found state of arousal when the demon pulls his tongue free and starts a murderous pace, thrusting aggressively into the little bundle of nerves deep inside of him. He hears the demon groaning down below, and with each strike to his prostate he forces himself to hold back from joining the demon in his groans of pleasure.

 

"Shit!" one of them growls, and Sam realizes that he can’t hear Dean’s voice anymore. The third demon’s hands are now holding him down again, and before long the creature is wrapping its lips back around his cock.

 

"No!" Sam tries to scream out, once more trying to get them to stop. But the demon sucking on his lips and exploring his mouth swallows his cry, rendering it nearly soundless.

 

"Oh, that’s it, Sammy!"

 

Sam jerks when hands start to claw at him, at either side of him, right below his stomach. As nails scrape and dig into his skin the demon beneath him starts to move faster. Now there's no break in between the thrusts, no mercy whatsoever, and Sam can’t help but let an occasional moan slip past his lips, unable to stop it in time. And suddenly the thing below him bucks and spasms as it finally empties itself inside of him, jets of semen filling up his used and aching hole. The creature shudders, letting out a low and satisfied grunt.

 

“F-Fuck…” the demon says, bucking his hips a few more times to milk himself completely dry. The clammy hands on Sam’s flanks finally loosen their grip a little, and the hunter knows that bruises are already present on the skin there, scattered in red and purple patterns.

 

“Thanks for the ride, sweetheart,” the demon beneath him whispers into his ear, nibbling at the lobe when he finally pulls himself out. Sam winces when he is left empty, his walls nearly cramping from the sudden change, and he lets out a whimper.

 

“Go to hell…!” he then hears himself say – but it doesn’t come out as the spiteful shout that he had wanted it to be. Instead it’s barely a whisper, hoarse and shaky. But despite its lack of volume the remark doesn’t go by unnoticed.

 

“What was that?” the demon beneath him snaps back, his fingers returning to Sam’s hips and digging right back into his aching skin.

 

“Huh? You wanna talk back to me, Sammy?” he whispers – almost purrs – into Sam’s ear before letting out a small and eerie-sounding chuckle.

 

“I really don’t think that’s in your best interest. Do you?” he says in a threatening voice, fingernails painfully leaving new, red marks in the shape of crescent moons on Sam’s skin, nearly splitting it in the process.

 

“In fact I think we need to teach you what happens when you make mistakes like that,” he adds, only to suddenly slide out from under Sam. No longer supported by a body beneath him the young hunter finds himself falling straight down on the stained mattress, making its springs give off shrill, metallic squeaks.

 

“What do you say, fellas? Does Sammy here need to be taught a lesson?” the demon smirks, looking inquiringly at his two friends while getting to his feet. Instantly all three sets of jet black eyes narrow ever so slightly, lips curving into cruel snickers. Sam can only watch the demons tower above him while he weakly tests his restraints again, helplessly pulling at the ropes that bind his hands and feet. Teary-eyed he looks up at his captors, unable to decipher the looks on their faces and what they might plan on doing next. He can’t help but cringe when he feels how semen is dripping out of him, staining the mattress in sticky blotches. His mind is spinning and all sorts of different kinds of pain are shooting through him at the same time, making him snap for air. Slowly one of the demons then kneels down next to his face, a serious expression decorating his pale features.

 

”Oh, I have a lesson right here for ya..." he says and palms his crotch. Sam’s gaze flicks down, and he cannot miss the prominent outline of the hardened bulge in the demon’s dress pants. 

 

"You've been such a good sport so far."

 

The air feels cold on Sam's teeth when he sucks in deep breaths, cringing once more when he feels more of the demon’s spunk oozing from his hole. He swallows the lump in his throat when the demon kneeling next to him frees his cock, and he instinctively presses his lips into a solid line, forcing himself to breathe through his nose.

 

"C'mon now, Sammy..."

 

Sam’s gaze moves towards the sound of another demon’s voice, watching as the black-eyed man flips his phone around in his hands, playing with it.

 

"Or does it take something in your ass to loosen those lips?"

 

Sam’s glance shifts nervously between the two demons, scared that if he does open his mouth he'll simply vomit all over himself. And he doesn’t even want to think about the humiliation of complying. Carefully he looks back at the demon kneeling next to him, his dick hovering just above his face.

 

"I'll bite you!" Sam says, the words coming out quick and choked. But the demons around him instantly just start to snicker.

 

"Don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep," the creature above him smirks, amused. Slowly he strokes his hard length while looking down at the hunter, eyes blazing. And his intentions are clear. Sam shakes his head, lips still pressed into a thin line in the hopes that it might somehow deter the demon. But the creature towering above him doesn’t falter in the slightest – instead five fingers grip Sam’s hair tight and yank back his head, making him crane his neck and let out a muffled yelp.

 

“Why don’t we make ourselves a bit more comfortable?” the demon then whispers into Sam’s face as he leans down over him, knees parting a little on the hard concrete floor. And with that he nods at his two friends. Sam’s brows are closely knitted together in both fear and confusion while he can do nothing but watch his three captors silently communicate. Apparently they understand whatever instruction the kneeling demon is sending them, because the other two instantly start to move down towards Sam’s feet.

 

Right away he tenses when they move closer and grab a hold of his ankles, fidgeting with the ropes tying them to the floor. His breath hitches in his throat. Are they really going to untie him? The thought races through Sam’s mind, and he isn’t sure if he even believes that they will actually free his legs. It may be some sort of trick, he thinks frantically. A hard tug on his hair makes him wince and jolts his attention back to the demon by his face.

 

“Oh, and Sammy? Don’t even fucking try!” the demon snarls, twisting the handful of hair a little, sending a smarting pain into Sam’s scalp. The hunter lets out a hiss, but tries to stay still in order to ease the vicious pull on his hair and pretend that he isn’t going to resist. If they really are going to untie him, this might be his one shot at getting out of here. And maybe - just maybe - if he acts docile enough he will be able to catch the demons off guard, he thinks hazily. A simultaneous thought makes its presence known somewhere in his mind, questioning if he will even be able to move his limbs properly. Maybe he won’t even be able to kick out like he so desperately wants to do, his brain informs him. With his mind spinning he tries to figure out what is going on and what exactly he should do - but in the same moment he can feel cold fingers undoing the last knots on the ropes tying his ankles to the floor. Two sets of chilly hands instantly grab him when the rough hemp rope falls to the ground with a light thud – and his ankles are no longer tied down.

 

The realization hits Sam like a bucket of ice cold water and without even properly registering it he snaps for air, trying to pull his legs up towards his chest. But he finds that the demons’ grip around his ankles is a lot firmer than he had thought – and at the same time a throbbing pain shoots through his body from the sudden movement, nearly stealing his breath away.

 

“What did I tell you?!” the demon with his fist in Sam’s hair growls, shaking him angrily. But Sam can’t hear him over the roar of his pulse hammering in his ears, and quickly he attempts to kick out at one of the demons by his feet. As he does, one of the creatures loses its grip on his ankle and falls flat on its ass, cursing loudly. One of his legs is now completely free.

 

“Let go of me!!” Sam shouts, kicking wildly at the last demon trying to hold down his other leg. He doesn’t even care that strands of his hair are being yanked out of his head as he thrashes, doesn’t even feel it. While the demon who lost his grip on him is trying to get back up to help his friend with the task of holding down their victim, Sam takes advantage of the situation the best he can. With a roar he kicks out with his free leg – catching the remaining demon in the chest with a loud ‘smack’. With something close to a howl the creature falls to the side, the impact of the blow strong enough to make him lose his balance.

 

“Fuck!!” he whines, gripping his chest where the hunter’s foot hit him. As Sam feverishly struggles to scramble up and into a sitting position he doesn’t notice that the grip on his hair is gone. Heaving for air he tries to twist his body, trying desperately to rid himself of the ropes around his wrists. But before he has a chance to conjure up any sort of concrete plan there is a loud growl – and before he can locate where it comes from a sharp pain explodes in his side.

 

All air leaves his lungs when a pointy dress shoe kicks him in the ribs, nearly driving its tip in between them. And for a few seconds Sam doesn’t know what is up or down or if he is awake or not – all he can feel is blinding pain rippling through him, and instinctively he tries to curl up into a ball. Only his bound arms can’t follow and he ends up just awkwardly pulling up his legs towards his chest while lying halfway on his side, trying to get his eyes to focus and his lungs to function again. Stars are sailing in his vision and a choked sound escapes him when he heaves for air but can’t seem to breathe all at the same time.

 

“Naughty, naughty…” a voice says somewhere above him and Sam can feel a shoe nudging him in the side.

 

“That’s too bad,” the voice continues, and the hunter groans when the shoe pushes harder, forcing him onto his back.

 

“We were gonna make it real good for you too…” the voice says, and Sam winces when he feels the cold hands grip his ankles again, pulling at him and forcing him to stretch out his body once more. He wants to kick and scream and beg and fight all at once but none of it is happening. He feels paralyzed and strangely numb, yet pain is shooting through him from seemingly every direction.

 

“Get him ready, boys. It’s my turn,” the voice orders. Instantly a chill runs through Sam and weakly he tries to kick again – only his efforts result in nothing more than some pitiful twitches. He is easily maneuvered around, the creatures pulling at him and lifting his legs into a new position.

 

“Easy access,” one of them chuckles. Pain zips through Sam’s limbs like lightning pulses that make it nearly impossible to focus on anything or anyone, and he figures that it is probably best to try to just focus on the pain above everything else.

 

"Stop squirming!" one of them shouts. Sam wants to snap back at him, but as the instinct of self-preservation kicks in, his spiteful words stay inside his mind instead of making their way out of his mouth. He has to try to avoid any repercussions. Still, he reassures himself that he will not stop resisting. He groans as vicious pain keeps shooting throughout his body, keeps his teeth gritted in remembrance that one of the demons had threatened to shove his dick inside if he dared to open his mouth. And that was only a few minutes ago.

 

"Here, you might as well take this," one of the creatures says, and Sam watches as his phone is tossed from one demon to the other.

 

"See if we can improve his arrival time."

 

Sam growls in protest as the demons holding him down force his knees to part a little even though he tries to keep his legs pressed together. But his muscles are so sore and fatigued by now that he can’t properly resist the pull. Somewhere he can hear how Dean’s phone is ringing, its sound pouring out through the speaker of his own phone while the demons continue to yank his knees even further apart. The phone then makes a clicking noise, and Sam can hear Dean’s desperate voice calling his name on the other end.

 

"What's it gonna take for you to get your pretty face here and join the party?" the demon holding the phone asks. The grip on Sam’s hair has loosened, and now the creature seems to be petting him, letting its fingers get lost in the chestnut locks whilst massaging his scalp.

 

"Bend his knees. I'll make him sing," the black-eyed man then says. Sam barely registers the words before his knees are pushed upwards and forced to touch his chest.

 

"Hold 'em."

 

Sam kicks out as hard as he can, but doesn’t gain much. The first demon stands over him, gripping his legs in an attempt to get the young Winchester to comply. With one leg on either side of the hunter’s bruised sides he digs his bony fingers into Sam’s thighs.

 

"We could just, you know, force you still..." he says.

 

"Heheh, yeah. But where's the fun in that?" his friend replies. Sam’s face heats up, new embarrassment washing over him as the demons take delight in maneuvering him around, his ass now on show, lifted off the mattress and making his shoulders take most of his weight. He feels the slick oozing from his hole and sliding towards the base of his spine.

 

"Get those vocals ready, Sammy!"

 

"Sam!? Sam, can you hear me? Sammy, I'm movin' steady now! I need you to hold on for me!" Dean’s voice yells through the phone.

 

_'Moving steady now'_ \- Sam’s mind instantly picks up on the code. Even in his panicked state it takes only a few seconds to decipher it. Dean is coming. Very soon. That part of Disturbed’s lyrics was always one of his brother’s favorite pieces to sing along to – and the song is called “Are You Ready”. Dean has to be less than ten minutes away. And hell yes, is Sam ready!! As much as he disliked the idea of codes when Dean proposed the idea, he has to hand it to his brother - they are coming in handy now.

 

"So beautiful for us..." one of the demons says as he runs his hands over Sam’s naked legs, pulling him out of his chain of thought.

 

"C'mon! You promised to make him sing!"

 

The demon smirks at his friend’s remark, and slowly he bends down a little, motioning to sit himself down behind Sam’s lifted legs. The hunter’s eyes instinctively widen with an inaudible gasp, a lump getting caught in his throat - and even his thoughts are getting stuck as panic creeps into his mind.

 

"No!" he quickly snaps. The demon is now on his knees, licking the skin behind Sam’s knee, his tongue heading down his leg, getting closer and closer to his ass. _‘This can’t be happening’_ , Sam’s mind screams as it wildly tries to process what is going on. But it is - it is happening. But surely the monster isn’t going to do that, Sam tells himself feverishly.

 

"Come on Sam, you can do better than that! Brother wants to hear your voice!" the demon moans in between his kissing and licking. And then the filthy creature sadistically sucks a bruise into each of Sam’s ass cheeks.

 

"Mmm…! Ready to sing?" the demon asks, his hot breath fanning across the hunter’s skin.

 

"Nn! No…!" Sam bursts out. The creature’s wet tongue then suddenly licks its way in between his cheeks, circling the puffy hole and starting to flick against it. Sam jerks at the sensation and tries to twist away, but the creature seems completely undeterred. Instead of retreating it makes an excited noise somewhere deep in its throat as it starts to drink the juices trickling from the abused entrance. Sam cringes – both from the mere thought of it, but also from the overload of sensation the lapping tongue sends through him. Wincing he grimaces from both fear, pain and arousal while utter disgust washes through him.

 

“Please…!” he hears himself whimper, voice thick with shame and something else that he can’t even describe or put his finger on. But the only response he gets is the demon humming against his loosened hole as he plunges his tongue inside of him.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Sam shudders as the demon’s humming sends strange vibrations through him, the plump tongue fucking in and out of him and lapping at the juices hungrily. Sam’s mind is swirling in a mixed state of panic, disgust, arousal, shame and horror. It’s like he can’t contain it all and a choked moan spills from his mouth, much to the three demons’ delight. Content chuckles fill the room along with slurping, wet sounds and labored breathing.

 

“Please, no!” Sam yells. It comes out as a helpless cry, cut in two when a sob unexpectedly makes its way out of his mouth. Grimacing and ashamed he tries to squirm away from the probing tongue examining and stimulating his insides, but he can’t move much. Each of his ankles is held tight by a demon, spreading his legs and lifting him slightly upwards to rest most of his weight on the back of his shoulders. The black-eyed man in between his trembling thighs is gripping his ass cheeks tight, spreading them wide for better access. And his tongue keeps going, darting in and out and back and forth at a mindboggling speed, sending what feels like electric currents through Sam who is unable to tell if it is a pleasurable sensation or an utterly uncomfortable one.

 

Dizzily Sam tries to buck his hips to jerk away from the tongue, but it doesn’t result in anything but a helpless twitch and a dull pain shooting through the back of his neck from the awkward movement. Heaving for air he squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers tugging at the ropes even though he knows it is to no avail. At least the pain it causes when the hemp rope rubs against his already raw and bloodied wrists distracts him a little. But not nearly enough. The overwhelming sensation created by the tongue penetrating him has his mind reeling, and he weakly tries to protest, to kick, to call out, to move away – but the only thing he accomplishes is to utter some incoherent, guttural sounds.  

      

“Maybe you should work on putting your foot down a little harder there, Dean," one of the demons sneers, his grip relaxed and confident in both Sam's hair and on his phone.

 

“Sammy! Just hold on! Before you know it we’ll be sitting down for eggs and bacon! It’s all gonna be okay, Sam…! Just hold on for me!” Dean’s voice desperately says on the other end of the phone line.

 

Sam’s eyes blink rapidly when he hears the words _‘Eggs and Bacon’_. It’s another code. The keyword here is actually ‘bacon’, and he fuzzily remembers that some time ago they had decided that this word means: “How many are we dealing with?” And Sam has three specific reply options from here: “Can we get beans?” (up to three monsters), “better get more bacon” (four to six monsters) or “let’s get the whole hog” (any number above seven). It might be some silly sentences, but at least their meaning is crystal clear to both of the brothers – and not to the monsters.

 

But before Sam has the chance to say anything, the demon between his legs suddenly retracts his tongue – only to wrap his lips around the head of his cock, sucking feverishly as he thrusts two fingers straight inside of him, ramming into his prostate.

 

”Ah! N-No! Please! Don’t!” Sam moans, his body trying to both arch away and into the touch, his ass instantly swallowing the fingers and clenching around them. The young hunter is truly struggling to process the right sentence, his mind whirling and a treacherous heat pooling in his loins - and his ability to think straight is quickly going downhill. 

 

“Ah! Stop! Ah- Aah! Dean…! Stop!! Beans! Fuck- fuck! Get beans- uh! Please, stop! I can't!” he babbles in a breathless and panicked voice, the words stumbling on each other and almost turning into nonsense. Without much thought and in between moans and gasps of disapproval Sam finds himself almost pleading the demon to add another finger when he involuntarily rolls his hips. But at least he has managed to communicate to Dean that he’s feeling like beans, and Dean sighs just a little on the phone, thankful and relieved that he isn't going to need to pack too much to get the job done.

 

“Hah! I think our little fuck toy has lost it,” a demon chuckles, patting Sam’s cheek patronizingly.

 

“Getting desperate, huh, Sammy? Look at yourself taking those fingers like a pro already! So needy…!” another chimes in, his glance raking over Sam’s body with pure lust in his onyx eyes. Sam shudders by the words, his entire body trembling and twitching while he squirms uselessly. His lungs feel like they are on fire as he breathes in huge mouthfuls of the cool air in the musty room way too fast, and his mind even spins a little faster as well even though he didn’t think it possible.

 

“Please!” he cries. But he doesn’t even know what he’s begging for anymore. He can’t make sense of anything, the intense overstimulation of his body short-circuiting his brain and shutting down pretty much all logical thought.

 

“Told you I was gonna make him sing!” the demon between his legs snickers. And then he adds another finger, driving all three of his long digits into Sam, burying them inside of him to the third knuckle. Instantly Sam bucks, a long and almost animalistic growl escaping him while he feels himself clamp down on the fingers as they stretch him wide. It stings viciously, yet still it’s a strange pain that he can no longer tell if he hates or not. It hurts. But it doesn’t. And his body is responding, his dick standing at attention, swollen and red and twitching against the lips of the demon kneeling in between his spread legs.

 

Sam whines, thinking about the fact that he is somehow aroused. This has to be the worst thing he has ever experienced. By far. A wave of nausea washes through him while sweat is dripping from his body, oozing steadily from every pore as he heaves for air, hips jerking and heart hammering. Somewhere in the background he can hear Dean’s desperate voice through the phone, snarling at the demons to leave his brother alone – but Sam almost can’t hear it. And he realizes that he’s actually groaning.

 

“Oh, yeah! He’s singin’ real good, alright!” a demon holding one of Sam’s legs pipes up, pulling at the long limb to spread his legs even further apart. Sam can’t even fight it. It’s like his muscles won’t cooperate. He feels fatigued, over-stimulated and spent. He’s exhausted. But at the same time it feels like every nerve end in his body is on fire, blasting his brain with electric signals that make him dizzy and aching for some sort of release. Any sort of end to this. Because he can’t keep going like this, he thinks hazily. He either has to pass out or climax. Or maybe he will just die, because it feels like his heart will soon give up on him, thrumming as fast as the wings of a hummingbird in his chest. Only every beat feels like a painful slam of a sledgehammer against his breast bone. Again he hears himself groan. Apparently he can’t control his voice anymore either.     

 

“I think he wants more,” the demon continues with a gleam in his eye that has Sam’s stomach churning instantly. The creature’s hand then slides down Sam’s inner thigh, kneading the muscle there in a suggestive manner as he goes.

 

“What do you say, Sammy? You want a cock inside of you, don’t you?” he purrs. Sam snaps for air when the demon between his legs starts to spread his fingers inside of him, stretching him open further. The young hunter moans out a cuss word, but it somehow gets lost in the groan that forces its way out.

 

“Or maybe you want two?” the black-eyed man smiles while he studies the hunter’s pained grimace. And Sam’s moans are coming out as broken cries now, desperate pleas leaving his lips as he pushes his ass down on the invading fingers – all while tiny whispers of ‘oh, god’ and ‘please’ slip out almost unnoticed. Shame and humiliation spread like a burning shade of crimson on his face, because he knows that the demon is right. He wants more. So help him, God, he wants more. Desperately he tilts his chin down towards his chest and lifts his head a little to stare at his touch-deprived and swollen dick, not able to comprehend what is happening. But in the same moment one of the bony fingers pokes his prostate once more, making his head fall right back down on the mattress when the heat in his loins flares up. He is completely and utterly overwhelmed, and before he knows it he is pushing his hips down on the fingers, moaning out hoarse and almost incoherent pleas, begging for the demons to just make it all end.

 

“Well, look at that! You’ve gone and made me fucking hard again…” a voice says. Sam hazily recognizes it as the one belonging to the demon who was beneath him earlier. As the black-eyed man holds one of his legs he nods at his friend, and they spread out both of the long limbs, parting Sam’s legs as wide as they can possibly go. The demon then ruts his erection against one of them, reveling in the fact that he’s already ready to go once again. He looks proud, Sam dizzily thinks to himself, and a new wave of nausea washes through him.

 

“You getting all this, Dean? Look what your brother does to us,” the creature grunts. Dean doesn't respond. The only thing making this worse is that he’s not far away and has his gun ready - but he can’t get out of the car until the call is disconnected. If he does, his cover will be blown. Sam is definitely too far gone to communicate with properly - but Dean has to do something.

 

“Sam!?” he says, knowing that his voice is probably the last one Sam’s going to want to hear right now - but he needs his brother to find a way to end the call.

 

But while Dean waits for an answer, the demon with his fingers shoved inside of Sam signals for the phone to be handed to him - and then he turns it just enough for Dean to see the fingers embedded in his brother.

 

“And if I do this…?" the demon groans and pulls his fingers free with a wet ‘pop’. Instantly Sam responds, whining and bucking at the sudden loss, his entire body involuntarily spasming. The three demons take delight in the sight, grinning at the young hunter’s reaction.

 

“Don't worry, Sammy. We’ll fill you up,” the one between Sam’s legs smirks and discards the phone carelessly in order to lean down and give the puffed hole a quick lick, poking his tongue in and out of the clenching muscle a couple of times. Sam can feel himself nearly nodding at the touch, a groan escaping him.

 

“Oh, you like that? Does that feel good?"

 

Sam opens his mouth to gasp or moan or cry - he isn't sure which - but whatever sound he wanted to make gets caught in his throat. One of the demons holding his legs moves a little to loop some rope around one of his knees, forcing it to stretch out to the side. He then ties the end of the rough hemp rope to another hook bolted to the concrete floor, securing the hunter’s shaking body.

 

“I doubt you need to worry. Look at how he’s responding…” the demon in between Sam’s legs huffs.

 

“Trust me, when a Winchester’s involved, you can’t use enough rope,” his friend quickly retorts.

 

“Fair enough. Well, it’s your turn. Are you gonna get under him?”

 

“Nah. Give me his leg. You get under him,” the creature says and pulls Sam onto his side so the other can shuffle under his body. Sam grunts in some sort of disapproval, but like his other protests it is completely ignored. He then feels the head of the black-eyed bastard’s cock press against him from below, but he’s too exhausted to fight back anymore.

 

“Why do you wanna miss your turn?” the demon underneath Sam asks in a breathless voice while he brushes his cock eagerly back and forth over the hunter’s slick entrance.

 

“Told you, I’m having the boy’s mouth.”

 

Sam's brows knit closely together from the thought of having a cock in his mouth. Much less a demon’s cock. It is beyond repulsive, and he shudders as chills roll down his spine. The demon still standing up then lifts and maneuvers Sam’s hips into a better position between his buddies on the soiled mattress. When Sam feels the flared cockhead below push against him more insistently he lets out a small whine – and as it easily sinks into him a small part of him is grateful that it doesn't brush his prostate right away. Pain is easier to handle than arousal, he thinks to himself.

 

“Well, shit! It just goes straight in!” the demon snickers, wasting no time as he makes Sam bounce on top of him when he bucks his hips aggressively.

 

“Ah! Fuck! Just let his leg go, he ain’t going nowhere,” the demon then pants, digging his fingers into the bruised skin on his hips. 

 

“A’right, I’m getting back to that hot mouth,” the demon by Sam’s tied knee says lowly and kneels down on the concrete floor next to the mattress. Slowly he leans down over the hunter’s face, quickly getting far too close for comfort.

 

“You’ll take my cock, you slut,” he hisses and slaps Sam’s face a couple of times, his flat hand making loud sounds as it collides with his cheek. Wincing Sam squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on the sting of the blows instead of everything else. But he fails. His attention just keeps going right back to the cock thrusting in and out of him, leaving him to writhe and pant helplessly. The demon sitting in between his thighs snorts and then lets go of his free leg in order to sit back and admire the sight before him, taking it all in just for a little while before deciding when to join in on the fun.

 

“Don’t…” Sam manages to whisper when the demon looming above his face starts to stroke himself, waving his hard length in front of him while suggestively gyrating his hips a little bit. The threat is clear and so is the intent. The creature just grins while he lets his fingers card through Sam’s tangled and sweat-soaked hair, brushing the wet locks out of his face. He does it in an all too gentle manner which has new chills running through Sam’s fatigued body. Dizzily he shakes his head when the black-eyed man lets the tip of his cock brush against his bottom lip, smearing pre-cum across the bruised and swollen flesh.

 

“Nggh…!” Sam bursts out in disgust, whipping his head to the side. But he freezes when the demon grabs his hair, forcefully twisting it – only to turn his head back to the cock bouncing eagerly just above his mouth.

 

“Suck it!” the creature says, his voice low and rumbling. Sam snaps for air, pressing his lips into a thin line again. He can’t do this. He won’t. And it’s like the demon can read his mind, because his black eyes instantly narrow.

 

“Open your fucking mouth!” he snarls, smacking the hunter across the face with his flat hand once more. For a few seconds Sam can’t hear anything but a loud ringing in his ears and a burning feeling spreads on his cheek from the impact, stars sailing around in his vision and only adding to his dizziness. But he still somehow manages to weakly shake his head. He can feel the black-eyed man’s fist tighten in his hair as a result, and the he lets out a muffled protest - but he still refuses to open his mouth.

 

“Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” the demon whispers ominously. And Sam then feels long, calloused fingers wrap around his neck. His heart feels like it is trying to leap out of his chest when the fingers tighten their grip, slowly starting to squeeze harder. He tries to thrash, desperate to get the hand to let go – but he forgets that his body is no longer obeying his mind. His attempts at dislodging the hand become nothing more than a few bucks and twitches, barely noticeable. Useless. Beneath him he can hear the demon panting heavily as he rams in and out of him, seemingly appreciating how Sam’s body is clenching around him in fear.

 

“Open!” the demon above him hisses into the hunter’s face, the order accompanied by a thin spray of saliva. Sam doesn’t respond, nostrils flaring in contempt and lips still pressed into an unwelcoming line. But then the creature’s fingers press harder. Much harder. And Sam feels himself stiffen when his windpipe is effectively squeezed shut. The demon glares down at him, a smug smile lingering on his lips as he shakes him lightly, watching as his eyes well up and his pupils contract in full-blown panic.

 

“Hey!” a voice suddenly yells, its loud outburst bouncing off the walls. Everyone instantly freezes, turning their heads in the direction of the sound. There, by the heavy door, is a fourth demon, sticking his head into the dimly lit room.

 

“Wanna see what I found?” he grins. The remaining demons can be heard, their snickers starting to grow louder and spread in all directions as they seem to understand the look on the newcomer’s face. The black-eyed creature just watching the scene from his sitting position on the mattress quickly gets to his feet, signaling to his two accomplices holding Sam that he will check it out. And that he will be back. Soon.

 

Sam grunts and tries to turn his head away from the demon rubbing his hard dick against his bruised lips. But the foul creature has one hand locked in his chestnut hair, forcing him to keep facing him while his other hand presses his cock against Sam’s mouth, thrusting it against him repeatedly as pre-cum drools from the flared head. At the same time the young Winchester is barely able to hold back a gasp when he feels the cock inside of him slide in deeper and end up somewhere near his prostate again - but this time he isn't nearly as tight, making the pain of the stretch less intense.

 

“C’mon, Sam. Maybe if you’re real quick you can get enough Latin out to exorcise us…” the demon above him coos as he keeps pressing his veiny cock against Sam’s lips, coating them in pre-cum. The creature below him is having himself a good laugh, his hand hooked over the hunter’s hip as he reaches for the young man’s rather impressive member, giving it a few uninterested strokes. But both demons are quick to pause when the door handle rattles and the wooden door swings open with a low shriek. Their two friends are back, dragging in what looks like a body.

 

“Well? What did you find?” the demon shouts, his hand still locked in Sam’s hair as he smiles ear to ear, an ugly grin growing on his pale face. Then he lets his gaze settle on the figure dragged into the room, semi-naked and passed out on the floor.

 

“Get some cuffs…” he then says lowly, a diabolic gleam glistening in his black eyes.

 

“That one’s gonna be lively when he wakes!” he adds with a chuckle. Instantly the other demons start to fuss around, handcuffing the man to a nearby wooden post, forcing him somewhat on to his knees before watching his body slump over. Filthy remarks are flying as they degrade and objectify him – not unlike the way they talked to Sam when he woke up tied to the chair. Nervous Sam tries to turn his head to look despite the brutal pull on his hair, and he pulls at the ropes in order to turn sideways just a tiny bit, gaining some more pain shooting through his wrists. But it also gains him a glimpse of the figure slumped against the pole.

 

“Dean!?”

 

Tears instantly well up in Sam’s eyes, and nausea settles in his stomach by the sight of his older brother. Desperately he tries to lift his hips high up into the air in attempt to dislodge the bastard impaling his ass, but all it does is earn him a loud moan from below. Even though Dean is still wearing pants and shoes he knows that it means very little under these circumstances. It can very well and all too easily change. And all too fast.

 

“Oh! That got your fuckin’ mouth to open!” the demon below him sneers, and Sam feels him shifting to suck at his ear lobe again, goose bumps rising when he hears the creature hum approvingly as he darts his tongue into his ear.

 

“You’re gonna wrap those pretty, pink lips around my fucking cock… And I don't think you’ll be willing to risk your brother, so I would really reconsider biting me!” the demon by Sam’s face hisses. Dizzily the young hunter shudders by his words, unable to tell himself that they aren’t true. At the same time he picks up on the new demon talking to his buddy while they stand by the pole and look down at their handiwork. 

 

“Shame about that tattoo. We could have had so much fun with the pair of ‘em," the newcomer says.

 

“Oh? That old thing? Minor technicality, Peter. We could burn it off?”

 

“I bet I saw a grater in the drawer earlier...” Peter replies casually.

 

Sam can’t pick up the rest, because automatically he flinches from a sudden, unwanted kiss that he finds himself receiving. He presses his lips into the thinnest line he can manage as he tries to avoid the demon above him attacking his mouth. It seems to work. At least for now, Sam thinks hazily. But after licking across his straining lips sloppily the creature then nuzzles his face into the crook of Sam’s neck, hot breath ghosting across the hot and sweaty skin there as he whispers in his ear:

 

“I’ve changed my mind, Sammy. I want you to beg me to put my cock in your mouth in front of your brother. And if you don’t…” he says and stops in order to sink his teeth into Sam’s shoulder, making an appreciative moaning noise as he does.

  
  
“… I’ll possess big brother and you can beg _him_ to stop,” the creature purrs ominously. Sam’s breath instantly hitches, his eyes widening when the reality of the threat creeps into his brain, bringing with it a feeling a pure horror that he can’t even begin to describe. The worst thing is that he knows that the black-eyed monster isn’t bluffing.  


  
“N-No…” Sam manages to utter, fresh tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. A confident smirk instantly decorates demon’s pale face, and he smiles down at his victim once he hears the new vulnerability in the young hunter’s voice.

 

“Sorry, what was that?” he asks, tilting his head in an exaggerated manner as if he truly hadn’t heard him. For a few seconds all Sam can manage is to concentrate on not throwing up, bits and pieces of terrifying imagery and thoughts whirling through his mind with a frenzied speed that makes his stomach churn violently. It’s like he can’t even speak. The mere idea of his possessed brother violating him has him trembling. Not so much for his own sake, but for his brother’s. If they ever make it out of here alive, something like that could destroy everything. For Dean. For both of them.

 

“Hey, Peter? Maybe you should get that grater…” the creature above Sam then suddenly says, clearly unhappy with the absence of a response.

 

“Sure thing, Winston!” Peter instantly responds and motions to head for the door. Immediately Sam’s body tenses the little it is capable of, having the demon below him let out an appreciative grunt.

  
  
“No, wait!” Sam bursts out, and the demon above him lets out a small sound which stops the other demon in his tracks, looking back at them. Apparently he is waiting for orders, and Sam dizzily gathers that this Winston demon currently glaring down at him must be the boss of this gang of filth.

  
  
“Why, what’s the matter, Sammy? Feeling talkative now?” Winston says, his eyes shimmering like black pools of liquid darkness. Carefully Sam looks up at him, trying to control the sudden excess of water brimming in his eyes and threatening to spill down his cheeks.

  
  
“Please… Just don’t hurt him,” he says, voice small and hoarse. A smile appears on Winston’s face, and he leans down a little further towards Sam.

  
  
“Then you know what to do, don’t you?” Winston asks in a fake, sweet voice which sounds almost paternal while he lets the hand in Sam’s hair slowly start to loosen its grip. Instead of pulling at the tangled, brown strands the fingers now begin to stroke them gently as the demon pats Sam’s head. Like he is some sort of pet. With nostrils flaring and heart galloping Sam fights the urge to shout profanities at the creature towering above him so confidently. But he can’t. And he knows that he has no choice but to comply. Nervously he licks his bruised bottom lip and nods. 

  
  
“Never mind, Peter,” Winston then says, giving himself some long, smooth strokes as he looks down at his victim. In the background Sam can hear the other demon shuffling back to the pole, and a strange mix of relief and renewed fear washes through him.

  
  
“Well, I suggest you get on with it then, boy. I ain’t got all day. Well… Actually, I do. I got a fucking eternity, but you get my point,” Winston jokes, earning an amused grunt from the creature below Sam. The young Winchester blinks rapidly, trying to clear his vision of the tears blurring it. Shuddering he swallows a lump suddenly formed in his throat, and he tries his best to ignore the sensation of the demon beneath him stretching him further and further as he pushes in and out of him. Slow and deep thrusts are followed by short, vicious ones – only for the creature to pull almost all the way out of him. Then plunge back in, balls deep. And then it is repeated. Over and over and over again. Sam is sore and tender and swollen, yet still the occasional stimulation of his prostate makes heat continue to accumulate in his groin, and he whimpers by the thought of it.

  
  
“So, go ahead, Sammy. Beg for me,” Winston says lowly, slapping his hard length against Sam’s cheek three times for emphasis. The hunter automatically flinches.

  
  
“And you better make it good unless you want big brother to have some fun with you,” he adds, eyes narrowing. Sam’s mind starts swirling in a frenzy by his words, conflicting thoughts smashing together and breaking into a thousand small bits and pieces that he can’t make heads or tails of. But eventually, after a long session of deep intakes of breath through his nose and his teeth still defensively gritted together in a tight vice, Sam manages to let a tiny ‘please’ slip past his bruised lips.

 

“I didn’t hear you, boy. Cedric, did you hear him?”

 

“Nah, I didn’t. But I can make him louder for you, boss,” the demon below Sam says - and with that he pulls his throbbing length out of the trembling body, only to quickly shove himself back inside, burying himself all the way to the hilt. The hunter holds back a moan when Cedric’s cock slams against his prostate in a cruel and hard thrust.

 

“Please,” Sam spits, a little more audible this time. He continues to do his best to ignore the cock moving inside of him, but it’s not exactly easy. Especially not when Cedric pulls back and snaps his hips upwards, slamming against him in yet another rough thrust. But Winston then suddenly raises his hand and snaps his fingers, the sharp sound of it echoing in the room. This minor action causes Sam to flinch harder than anything else this far, and he whips his head in Dean’s direction, hoping that the other two demons haven’t touched him. Apparently they haven’t, and relief washes through him. And he sees that the fourth demon, whose name he still doesn’t know, is now headed his way. He walks slowly and confidently towards them, definitely not in a hurry. And why would he be? The four of them have all the time in the world.  
  


“Maybe you need some convincing… Perhaps Lucas’ tongue can loosen yours?" Winston snickers while he rubs his twitching cock against Sam, following his jaw line and enjoying the slight stubble there grazing and tickling his skin. The young Winchester’s toes curl in anger and desperation, his jaw muscles clench and his numb hands manage to form milky white fists. Then a gasp escapes him when his hole suddenly feels painfully empty at the lack of cock when the creature below him pulls out.

 

“Don’t… Pleas—"  
  


“You’d love his tongue up your ass, wouldn’t you?”

 

“No! Don’t!”  
  


“Cedric, I didn’t tell you to stop,” Winston murmurs, and instantly the demon beneath Sam lines himself back up, instantly following orders and slowly pushing his meaty member back inside. And he is almost disappointed that the hunter doesn’t make some sort of noise at the intrusion.

 

“Maybe it’s not a tongue he wants? Eh, boy?” Lucas says in a throaty voice as he gets down on his knees between Sam’s parted legs, licking his lips. Fueled with anger and embarrassment Sam can’t resist the natural response to kick out with his free leg. But he gains nothing but laughter when Lucas easily grabs the long limb with his hands.

 

“Thatta boy! We like you kids with a little extra fight in ya…!” Lucas says, and suddenly he nudges his own thick cock at Sam’s already stuffed entrance. Instantly the hunter lets out something close to a squeak.

 

“No! No!” he whines, and at the same time he instinctively turns his head away when Winston’s cock gets too close to his lips.

 

“Better plead for a cock in your mouth before we get confused and shove another in here," Lucas warns and nudges a little harder at the ring of stretched muscle. Cedric lets out a low moan as the young hunter struggles between the three warm bodies, squirming and writhing in a helpless attempt to somehow free himself. Sam knows that it’s futile though – he knows it all too damn well – and soon his body gives up the fight, muscles going lax and returning to their uncooperative state. But just when he is ready to break and give the demons what they came for, Winston’s hand places itself under his jaw, forcing his opening mouth to close again. Sam tries to yell in frustration, but he barely manages to make any noise at all.

 

“I said we’d have him beg in front of big brother. Peter, wake Dean up, it’s time for him to join the party,” Winston says lowly, a smug grin spreading on his lips. Sam screams into the hand now clamped over his mouth, his eyes wide with fear and humiliation. But it’s already too late. Winston has given the order, and Sam can already hear Peter slapping Dean a couple of times across the face whilst telling the new captive to wake the fuck up.

 

“And Sam? It is not too late for me to hold up our other little deal…” Winston whispers maliciously into his ear. Sam knows that he has to mean the plan involving the grater. An icy chill instantly rolls through him, bile threatening to rise in his throat. Because he doesn’t doubt that Winston truly won’t hesitate to take apart Dean’s skin in order to possess his body and violate them both wearing it. A whimper escapes Sam’s mouth only to be suffocated and swallowed by the broad hand clamped over it.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

Dean wakes with a short gasp, feeling how his knees instantly ache from resting on the hard concrete floor. He blinks as his vision swirls from four pictures to a single fuzzy one, and finally his eyes are able to lock on his little brother. He seems to turn a shade paler when he sees Sam lying there, arms tied above his head, legs parted and knees bent while surrounded by three suits with onyx-black eyes.

“Sammy?” he rasps and quickly he looks down at himself, scanning for any signs of injuries like blood stains on his shirt or the like. Only to realize that he isn't wearing a shirt at all. Actually all of his three shirts are missing as well as dad’s leather jacket. All of it is gone, except his jeans. But at least he isn’t injured, other than the blow he received to the head when he got here. And his throat feels rough, like he’s been out drinking all night. He flinches just a tiny bit when the fourth demon, the one standing beside him, comes into view.

“If you wanted bacon, Sam, you really just had to ask...” Dean jokes, giving Sam the smallest of reprimands for telling him the wrong code earlier. Sam curses himself, but knows that Dean doesn't blame him. He isn’t even angry. Because how was Sam supposed to know that there was a fourth demon outside? He’d only seen the three since he came to.

The demon next to Dean then edges closer, and he kneels down to crouch so he can level his black eyes with Dean’s candy apple green ones.

“Like the look of your brother like this? From what I’ve heard so far he screams real nice. Wanna hear ‘im?” Peter taunts.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch—"

“Cedric’s been owning that sweet ass of his for over an hour now. And Sammy? Well, he begs real fucking good…” Peter says, tilting his head a little as he glares at Dean. The older Winchester feels a new type of resentment flow through his veins. He cannot begin to comprehend what Sam has gone through in the last hours.

“Well, you have me now…” Dean says, trying to hide the smoldering fury in his voice

 “… Let him go.”

“You?” Peter says and bursts into a fit of laughter.

“You think this is about you?” he asks coldly, still laughing. His grin is dark and murderous, and his hand roughly grips the back of Dean’s neck, holding him in place like a kitten, his thumb digging in to where shoulder meets neck.

“No. No, this is about a book,” Peter says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...!” Dean snaps angrily. And a little too quickly. He knows damn well what the demon is hinting at, and he knows damn well that this kind of magic is far too dangerous to hand over to the likes of demons.

“You know the one, Winchester… Brown, about yay-big, leather, has fancy lettering, reads “ _ Book of Arconsiel.” _

__

Dean swallows down the lump suddenly formed in his throat, and he is sure that the demons can practically taste the desperation that he is sure to be reeking of. He turns his head half an inch to stare into the lack of soul in those endlessly black voids and he doubts that he is truly prepared to watch or see what happens next.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about…” he says flatly. For a few seconds Peter just stares at him, pitch black orbs shimmering ominously at him in the dim light. Then the demon smiles a crooked smile, digging his thumb a little harder into Dean’s neck.

“Hmm… I see. Well, maybe you’ve just forgotten?” Peter says, making Dean wince slightly when the tip of the creature’s thumb pushes hard enough to almost break through his skin, muscle fibers lightly crackling under the pressure.

“I bet we can help you remember though,” the demon then says, narrowing those onyx eyes at Dean in a way that has his heart rhythm pick up speed, irregularly pounding against his ribcage.

“Isn’t that right, guys?” Peter asks, turning his head towards his three friends surrounding the younger Winchester. A rumble of low laughter spreads in the room. 

“Sure, always happy to help!” Cedric pipes up, forcefully bucking his hips and ripping a choked grunt from Sam when he buries himself balls deep once more. Only the sound can’t be heard, because Winston’s hand is still firmly clamped over Sam’s mouth, preventing any sound from escaping.

“Leave him alone!” Dean instantly yells, his entire body tensing up as he averts his glance from Peter to look at his brother. As he lies there, completely naked and helpless, Dean almost can’t bear it. He can’t bear to see Sam like that. His baby brother looks so vulnerable and so hurt and so damn broken that Dean isn’t sure if his heart is going to give out by the sight alone.

“Let him go!” he shouts, voice raw and trembling with both fury and horror. He doesn’t even feel Peter’s thumb pressing into his neck to bury itself a little deeper, small blood vessels breaking in the process.

“Then tell us where the book is,” Winston dead-pans, sending Dean a careless glance.

“But first…” he begins, slapping his heavy cock against Sam’s cheek as he leans down over the younger Winchester just a tiny bit further.

“… I want Sammy here to hold up his end of the bargain,” Winston says in a husky bass and starts to slowly lift his hand off of Sam’s mouth.

“You remember our bargain, don’t you?” he whispers as he rubs the flared head of his cock against the corner of Sam’s mouth, nudging it lightly at his lips which are still tightly pressed together. 

 

The young Winchester blinks rapidly, trying to rid his vision of the fresh tears which are suddenly blurring out everything. Wide-eyed he looks up at Winston, nostrils flaring desperately and brows furrowed in fear. His thoughts stumble on one another and get jumbled up in a frantic pile as his mind races to come up with some sort of solution or way out of this. But he finds nothing. And his thoughts keep going back to the same thing. The grater. Trembling Sam lets out a ragged breath – and then he nods.

“Thatta boy!” Winston says as he lights up in a wide grin. Somewhere in his peripheral vision Sam can see his brother knit his brows together in confusion.

“Sam, what’s he talking about?” Dean says, worry clearly present in his gravelly voice. But Sam doesn’t answer. He can’t. His cheeks are burning with shame, his body is aching and every fiber in it is screaming for all of this to just end. Fatigued and dizzy Sam looks up at Winston, his breath hitching.

“P-Please...” he croaks, a tear rolling down his cheek to land somewhere in his hair. The demon towering above him merely smirks.

“What?” Winston says, his smirk changing into a smug grin. Sam draws in a wheezy breath and swallows, noticing how dry his mouth suddenly has become. His throat feels like sandpaper and his lips hurt when he carefully parts them.  

“Please… Please p-put your cock in my mouth…” Sam rasps, feeling how his entire face burns with renewed shame. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the color drain from his brother’s face.

“Oh, you want my cock?” Winston asks, slowly rubbing his throbbing dick against Sam’s slightly parted lips, smearing them with sticky pre-cum. Sam represses a sob trying to make its way out of his mouth, and he closes his eyes in defeat.

“Yes… Please…” he says, voice cracking when he feels the slick substance coat his bottom lip.

“How badly do you want it, Sammy?” Winston asks and purposely drags his thumb over the head of his cock, forcing more pre-cum to drip onto the young man’s lips.

“Please—" Sam starts, but chokes on a sob threatening to break through.

“Please. I need it. I need your cock in my mouth…” he manages to say under his breath. 

“Louder, Sammy," Winston whispers in a voice that almost sounds comforting.

“Sam…?! Sam, no!” Dean hisses as the handcuffs dig into his wrists when he struggles to move forwards. But the wooden post isn’t budging and neither is he.

“Sam, don’t! It’s not worth it!” Dean yells, his face pale and desperate. Peter holds Dean’s head in a firm and solid grip, knowing that the rumors could very well be true - a Winchester probably would snap his own neck to headbutt a demon. Especially given the circumstances.

“That’s a virgin mouth right now, Dean - and you can stop this, you know? We don't need to hurt your brother like this, we just need that book," Peter says.

Out of the corner of his eye Sam is watching the demon lean over his brother, Peter’s words hitting home. He can’t let Dean get extorted like this, can’t let it all be a burden on his shoulders. And he can’t let the demons get that book either. As his thoughts whirl around frantically Sam can feel himself breaking, mind crumbling into tiny pieces, and he tries to take deep and meaningful breaths, bracing himself. A sudden new strength and will for this to come to its final chapter surfaces within him, and Sam finally surrenders himself to it. For Dean.

“Please, I need your cock!” Sam says, his voice surprisingly clear even though he swallows back the vomit crawling up the back of his throat. His red and raw eyes are fixed on Winston’s curious and smug gaze.

“Give it to me,” Sam says desperately.

      

“Oh, I like it when you talk dirty to me, Sam…!” Winston says while he and Peter exchange glances. And again Peter asks Dean where the Book of Arconsiel is, the warning accompanying the question clear and unmistakable.

“There’s still time to get away with minimum damage. Tell us where the book is!” Peter says and tightens his grip on Dean’s neck for emphasis. Instantly the older Winchester lets out a small yelp when his neck threatens to break.

“Or are you really keen to watch Sammy suck that cock clean?”

“Fuck you!” Dean snaps, wincing both from pain and disgust. 

“Tempting, Dean… And kind of you to offer, but  _ you _ \- you’re not my type,” Peter smirks and glances back to Winston. He is still sliding his throbbing member across Sam’s lips, and a quick nod has Winston pushing his cock in between Sam’s lips, nudging his teeth apart and touching the tip of Sam’s tongue.

“Not gonna bite me, are you, boy?”  

Sam turns his head in disgust, spitting at the floor to rid himself of the foul taste, and he forces his throat to go tight to hold back from vomiting. For a brief moment, he thinks he’s going to throw up the contents of his stomach anyway, the taste of bile tickling the very back of his throat. At the same time he can feel his chest tighten, because it truly feels like he has to fight in order to keep his heart in there, keep it from just leaping right out of him.

“I said: You’re not gonna  _ bite _ me, are you?” Winston says.

“No…” Sam manages to whisper.

“No **_,_ ** _ what _ ?” Winston snaps, eyes narrowing as he wonders if Sam will comply and do as he’s being told without having to make any further threats.

“N-No, I… I won’t bite...“ Sam rasps, tears now streaming freely down his face. And despite every instinct screaming at him he turns his head back to face the leaking cock.

 

“Good. Good boy. Then I’ll give you what you want,” Winston says and pushes his drooling member a little further inside of Sam’s mouth, watching as the young Winchester automatically scrunches up his face in disgust. But he doesn’t turn away. He just lies there, eyes wide, cheeks red with shame and his mouth slack. But then Winston stills.

“You know, it’s very rude to be given something and not appreciate it,” he says, glaring down at him.

“You want my cock, right? Well, then you better treat it properly,” he warns, bucking his hips just a tiny bit. The sudden movement has Sam coughing when the thick head hits the back of his throat, inducing a new wave of nausea. Blinking through the layer of tears to clear his vision he looks up at Winston and manages to nod, the threat in the demon’s voice clear. And suppressing a whimper Sam convinces himself to tighten his lips around the throbbing erection. He knows that he has no other choice. But the feeling of the veiny flesh and the taste of bitter pre-cum and musk spreading in his mouth has his stomach churning violently, and he squeezes his eyes shut to be able to focus on not throwing up.   
  
  


“Sam…!?” Dean’s voice yells somewhere in the background, but Sam almost can’t hear it over the groans now escaping Winston and the roaring of his own pulse in his ears. At the same time the heinous creature beneath him keeps thrusting in and out of him in lazy, slow strokes - occasionally brushing against his prostate, keeping Sam’s dick standing at attention treacherously.

“That’s more like it! Fuck, you’re good at this, aren’t ya, Sammy?” Winston grunts, enjoying the friction that the hunter’s bruised lips provide against his cock. Sam keeps his eyes closed, deeply concentrated on not retching and not succumbing to his intense urge to bite. The thick cock keeps going deeper and deeper, and he quickly finds himself gagging while new tears form behind his closed eyelids.

“Such a good, little cockslut!” Winston praises and bucks his hips harder, gripping two fistfuls of the hunter’s tangled hair, holding him tight as he fucks his mouth. Sam lets out a choked whimper, but it’s completely drowned out by the obscene, wet sounds his body is making around the cocks pumping in and out of his ass and mouth. Somewhere he can hear his brother’s voice yelling and shouting, but he can’t make out what he’s saying.

“Easy there, Dean-o!” Winston groans as he leans back his head, reveling in the amazing feeling of the hot tightness around his cock.

“Fuck, your baby brother feels so fucking good!” he adds, bucking his hips a bit harder to make Sam splutter and gag, ropes of saliva dangling from his lips and flowing down his face.

“I’ll kill you!! I’ll fucking kill you!!” Dean growls, thrashing violently back and forth as he tries to free himself of the cuffs, the metal digging into his skin and drawing blood as he desperately yanks and pulls and twists. Peter lets out an amused huff and digs his fingers just a tiny bit deeper into his shoulder. Dean doesn’t seem to notice though. Instead he keeps thrashing as if he doesn’t even feel it, his furious gaze locked on his brother’s attackers.

“No, you won’t… What you  _ will _ do is give us that book. Unless of course you wanna keep watching?” Peter smirks.

“Quite the voyeur, aren’t ya? Kinky!” Cedric pipes up from under Sam as he wraps an arm around the hunter’s narrow waist, counterbalancing as he slams himself into him forcefully. Sam whines, but the sound is completely muffled around Winston’s cock.

“I don’t have the book…!!” Dean shouts, face contorted in a mix between fury and horror. He can feel his eyes well up, but he refuses to let it show when Peter leans down to glare at him.

“Well, enjoy the show then! I’m sure Sammy appreciates the audience,” Peter says flatly, clapping Dean’s cheek patronizingly. With a growl Dean whips his head to the side to stare at the demon in front of him, wet and green eyes blazing.

“I don’t have it! I burned it…!!” he hisses.           

“Burned it? Now, why would you do a thing like that?” Peter asks, eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

“So you pricks wouldn’t get it!” Dean swears. He feels like his teeth are going to break under the pressure from gritting too hard, and briefly he thinks about just giving in and screaming from the top of his lungs. But he knows that he’s not going through half of what Sam is. He needs to stay strong. 

“You know what happens when you  _ lie  _ to me, Dean?” Peter asks as he lifts his hand off Dean’s shoulder and roughly starts to massage the purple bruise forming below. He then rubs his fingers over the back of Dean’s neck threateningly. But Dean doesn’t care. He doesn't mind the rough treatment - but watching that sick and twisted bastard shove his cock in Sam's mouth…  _ That _ is eating him alive. Not to mention what the monster below is doing to his brother. A whimper tries to leave Dean's mouth, but no sound accompanies it. His wrists are bloodied and rubbed raw by now from struggling, and his stomach is twisting and knotting in ways that he didn’t even know it could. Seeing his little brother like this is tearing him apart, the scene unfolding before his eyes too gruesome and too cruel to be real. He is sickened by how Winston occasionally pulls out, giving Sam a few seconds to spit and scream out, all while Cedric thrusts in and out of him, undoubtedly slamming into his prostate in the process. His brother has even thrown up a couple of times, but it has been completely ignored. Dean has no choice but to watch everything that is happening, his body threatening to lose its lunch every few seconds. Not that he has even eaten.

He watches as Sam’s hands pull helplessly at the ropes, and his wrists look worse off than his own. His face is flushed and red all the way down to his chest. One knee is secured with ropes. Dean can't see what it is attached to, but the third demon, Lucas, is leaning over Sam as Cedric pushes his hips up high, burying himself deeper inside his defenseless brother.

“Looks a treat, doesn’t he?” Peter eventually says, dragging Dean from his thoughts.

“Dean-o, I’m gonna ignore that you just lied to me and save Sammy from a whole new world of pain. All I need from you is the location of that book,” he says.

‘ _ And if I don’t?’ _ \- Dean thinks the words even though he knows damn well that Peter’s little speech isn’t over.

“Lucas has been pretty patient over there. Waiting for his shot at your brother…” Peter continues. Dean tries to pull away again, trying to get Peter’s hands off of him. But it does nothing but make the demon's grip a tiny bit tighter, a tiny bit meaner.

”So, let’s try that again, Dean. The book, where is it?” Peter asks.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this, Sammy,” Winston bursts out, letting out a loud moan as his cock stuffs Sam’s mouth completely full. And for one split second at a time Sam’s body tenses up more and more from the lack of oxygen – ripping a moan from Cedric when the tightness increases around his cock.

“Oh, shit… I’m gonna blow if he keeps doing that… Fuck!” he grunts breathlessly.

“Swallow it! Swallow that fucking cock! That’s it!” Winston says, shoving himself even deeper inside, and Sam feels pubes tickle his nose when the demon's pelvis presses against his face. There’s no air. He can’t breathe. Panic floods his mind, but he can’t move no matter how much he wants to. With his throat effectively clogged up, all he can do is to hope that the tunnel vision starting to form before his eyes won’t swallow him whole. Or maybe this is how he dies, he thinks to himself hazily.

A groan and a handful of short thrusts follow, and then Winston finally pulls out. Too much saliva follows his thick length, and Sam turns his head to spit out what he can, trying to ignore the foul taste of sulfur and salt on his tongue. Sucking in some huge mouthfuls of air he coughs and wheezes, and the tunnel vision disappears just as quickly as it had come. Suddenly he can’t really tell if that’s good or bad. Maybe he would be better off unconscious. Or dead. Frustration washes through him, but his throat is so sore that he doubts if he can even scream. He knows that his lips are purple, bruised and cracked from being forced open for so long. He doesn’t take a single breath of air for granted at this point, and his eyes briefly look up to meet Dean’s - but all he can feel and focus on at the moment is the foul taste of the demon above him while Cedric continues the assault on his abused ass. Sam’s lips are parted as he gasps for air, and he purposely avoids closing his mouth to hopefully prevent the vile taste of cock from spreading on his tongue. He’d much rather taste his own vomit at this point.

Dean still hasn’t replied to Peter’s question, and without warning Lucas is suddenly given the go-ahead. All it takes is a tiny and rather nonchalant nod of Peter’s head - and suddenly Lucas tells Cedric to pull out a little. Immediately the demon below the squirming hunter does as he’s told, letting his dick slip almost all the way out of the trembling body to make room for his friend to join. 

 

Lucas doesn’t hesitate. Instantly he pushes the head of his cock in right next to the other one, nudging at Sam’s already painfully stretched ring of muscle. Dean immediately screams for them to stop, his voice bouncing off the walls and multiplying in volume. But no one takes any notice whatsoever. And Sam can’t hear a thing. Instead his eyes shoot wide open as his hole is forced to accept the two cocks now pressing against him. A choked noise escapes him just before his whimpers echo around the room.

“Ugh…!! N-No! Ah! God! Stop! Please!!” he cries desperately. Lucas moves surprisingly slowly, almost forgivingly, letting Sam adjust. He watches as the young Winchester chokes and forgets to breathe.

“Almost there, Sammy…” Lucas moans lowly.

“I ... C-Can’t! Oh, fuck! Nngh!!” Sam groans, trembling and writhing in between the three warm bodies.

“There we are… Do you feel good and full, Sammy—”

“Pull out!! P-Please!!” Sam screams, cutting him off. And he lets out a ‘no’ when Lucas’ hand finds his throbbing cock, giving the hard flesh a few test strokes before he pulls back a little.

“Feel that hole! Oh, you feel so good…" Lucas says in a sing-song manner. Cedric quickly chimes in as well.

“Good, little cock slut, aren’t you? Like taking two dicks, huh, Sammy?” he taunts, bucking his hips a little harder.

“No...! No...!” Sam weakly rasps while Lucas leans over his bent body, slowly pushing himself inside a few inches deeper, reveling in the sounds that flow from Sam as he does so.

Simultaneously Dean is screaming at them in the background, kicking and bucking against the wooden post. Sam can hear him making a lot of noise, growling out threats and struggling to free himself - but he can’t really comprehend the words his brother is pointlessly spewing. The room seems to be one big chaos of sound, and Sam’s mind is spinning fast enough for him to almost bounce in and out of consciousness. Small glitches of black nothingness flash before his eyes, but before it can swallow him he is slammed back into the horrific reality and all of the chaos that it contains.

Forcefully Cedric pushes his hips up, slamming himself into Sam and stealing his breath away. Along with Lucas he struggles to find a pace which is enjoyable to both demons. The young Winchester continues to splutter for air around Winston’s cock which has resumed to pump in and out of his mouth – and whenever he gets the chance to breathe he pointlessly begs for them to stop. He begs for this to just end. Even though he knows that it is completely useless. Tears freely stream down Sam’s face as the two cocks pull and drag and push inside his hole, threatening to tear him wide open despite all of the slick coating his abused entrance. The cock in his mouth feels like it is slowly suffocating him at the same time, striking the back of the roof of his mouth and causing bile to rise dangerously high in his throat.

 

“Please…!!” a voice yells somewhere. It sounds strangely distant and at first Sam can’t even locate or recognize it. It sounds shrill and painfully desperate somehow. Then, a few seconds later, he realizes that it belongs to his brother.

   


“Please!!” the voice yells again. Slowly and sluggishly Sam manages to look at Dean out of the corner of his eye, vision blurred and stained by a thick layer of tears. Through the fog he can see his brother sitting on his knees, arms stretched out behind him in what looks like a painful position as he tugs and yanks at the handcuffs tying him to the post. Blinking to clear his vision Sam tries to fix his gaze properly on Dean, but it’s like he can’t even see straight. Various voices and bizarre sounds are echoing around the room and he can’t distinguish one from the other as his body is rocked back and forth and his mind threatens to shut down. Yet still he has a feeling that his brother has been yelling the same thing for a long time.

   


“… Listen to me….! Please….! Why’re you not listenin—“ the voice screams, a clatter of metal against wood bouncing off the walls along with grunting and slaps of skin against skin. Sam blinks again, trying to focus. His brother’s face looks almost contorted, a strange grimace decorating his features like some sort of unrecognizable mask. Sam has never seen his brother make that kind of facial expression before. He looks completely… different.

“Stop!! Just stop!! Please, I already—“ Dean’s voice screams, pure desperation lacing his voice like a bitter poison while he tears at the cuffs, blood flowing in scarlet drops from his wrists. The older Winchester keeps looking from Sam to Peter, his glare flicking back and forth indecisively as he struggles.

“Sorry, what’s that?” Peter finally says, redirecting his gaze from his buddies to look at Dean. He wears a smug grin as he squeezes his shoulder bit harder, watching with curiosity as the hunter doesn’t even flinch. Staring daggers at him Dean just yanks harder at the cuffs.

“I told you! I told you where the book is! Let my brother go!!” he screams, voice cracking and hoarse as he continues to pull and twist, bucking hard enough against the wooden post to make it wobble slightly.

“Oh! Sorry, must’ve missed it,” Peter says, shrugging. Slowly he leans down a little to look at the struggling hunter – close enough to feel Dean’s irregular puffs of air on his face as he exhales raggedly, but just out of reach for the human to headbutt him.

“Well… I guess that’s what happens when you lie to me, Dean-o. Now, where do you say this book is again?” Peter asks, onyx eyes sparkling in the dim light.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

The stale air in the room reeks of sweat, blood and sex and Dean snaps for air as his gaze flicks back to Sam. His younger brother’s long body is bent into an awkward position, legs spread impossibly wide and arms tied all too tight above his head. Surrounded by demons he has gone almost completely limp, his teary eyes unfocused and vacant. The two demons between his legs are still snapping their hips aggressively, entering his brother in sync over and over again while another demon is brutally fucking his mouth. Dean feels the knot in his stomach grow bigger and he desperately looks back at the demon kneeling next to him.

 

“Crocker’s Road!!” Dean yells once more, almost stumbling on his own words as he spits them at Peter.

 

“The warehouse on Crocker’s Road!!” he rasps, voice almost failing from having yelled for so long. The black-eyed man next to him lets the corners of his mouth creep up into a small smile, finally acknowledging Dean’s mention of the address.

 

“I see…” Peter says, sounding as if he is contemplating whether he should believe him or not.

 

“Just leave him alone!!” Dean shouts, yanking at the cuffs again only to earn himself another deep laceration to one of his already bloodied wrists. Peter lets out a small huff.

 

“Well, I guess I should check it out then…” Peter says – only to grab Dean’s chin and force the hunter to look at him.

 

“But if you’re lying to me again I will personally remove that pretty, little tat of yours… Piece by piece… And then Sammy will be in for a real treat. A whole new level of brotherly love… If you catch my drift,” he smirks, licking his lips.

                     

“T-Two. Y- You’ll need two of you to get it…” Dean stutters.

 

“What?” Peter says, his nose turned up into a snarl as his black eyes search Dean’s green ones.

 

“Why?” the demon asks, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

 

“It’s guarded…” Dean coughs out, hesitating a bit. He knows Peter might lose his temper and he prays that Sam doesn’t pay the price for it.

 

“Demon wards… Hell, it might even take three of you pathetic pieces of—”

 

“Watch it...! “ Peter growls.

 

“You’ve already crossed me once! Or maybe you actually do enjoy watching your brother get punished for your little stunts?” he warns, his tone more than just a little threatening. And Dean knows that he isn’t bluffing. So he bites his tongue, not wishing to contribute any further to his brother’s distress. Carefully he glances past Peter to look at Sam. His younger brother has gone almost completely quiet - any noise that he does make is muffled by the cock being shoved past his teeth, nearly choking him.

 

“Make them stop…” Dean says. His expression turns emotionless as he continues to force himself to watch his brother be torn open by the three dark forces in front of him.

 

“You’ll get the book… It’s there… Tell them to stop!”

 

“And leave them with blue balls…? Heck no. But I’ll take the first man who shoots his load into your brother,” Peter says, sending the older Winchester a diabolical smile.

 

“N-No! Don’t!” Dean bursts out, instantly yanking at the cuffs again. His eyes widen in disgust as he hears Sam’s choked screams, muffled and agonized. And the three demons are commenting on their handiwork as they continue their attack on his brother, spewing out sly and obscene words as they go. The rope binding Sam’s wrists are cutting new wounds into his flesh as he continues to pull at them like he’s begging for them to magically come undone.

 

“I told you!! I told you, you bastard!” Dean finds himself yelling, his voice cracking and becoming more like some sort of cry. Desperately he pulls and tugs at the cuffs securing his wrists to the wooden post, uselessly bruising his wrists further in a hopeless attempt to free himself.

 

“Aww, I know you did. But I have to be sure you’re not lying to me, mm? So why don’t you just sit tight and enjoy the view,” Peter says and pats Dean’s cheek. Dean automatically lets out a hiss by the touch, like the demon’s fingers are burning holes in his skin. The black-eyed creature merely smiles and redirects his attention to his three friends.

 

“Enjoying your toy there, boys?” he laughs, eyes raking over Sam’s taut body and drinking in the sight. The three demons surrounding the younger Winchester instantly make appreciative noises, moaning in pleasure.

 

“Fuck, yeah! He’s made for this,” Winston groans, driving his cock a bit further down Sam’s throat and earning a spluttering cough from him when his airway is blocked once more. Beneath Cedric lets out a grunt, clearly enjoying how the young hunter’s hole clenches around his aching cock when he instinctively struggles to breathe. Lucas notices as well and lets out a small pant as the friction between his and Cedric’s cock inside of Sam intensifies, and they automatically pick up speed, wanting more. Moving in sync they plunge themselves in as deep as they can go, balls slapping against Sam’s buttocks as they bottom out. A shrill cry escapes Sam when it feels like he’s split in two, the deep penetration yanking him out of his almost catatonic state – but his cry is drowned out and muffled around Winston’s cock stuffed into his mouth.

 

“I’m close,” Cedric grunts, tightening his grip around Sam’s waist from below. Dizzy and hazed Sam barely registers the demon’s rapid breathing as it hits the heated skin on his nape and the side of his neck, and he doesn’t even try to pull away when Cedric suddenly sinks his teeth into his shoulder. He doesn’t have an ounce of energy left in him in order to protest anymore.

 

“Fuck…!” Cedric pants heavily, eyes screwed shut and his tongue lapping greedily at the droplets of blood oozing from Sam’s skin where he bit him. And he bucks his hips faster, slamming himself against the hunter mercilessly. As a result Sam’s eyes roll to the back of his head when he feels himself being stretched wider, pain radiating from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, mixed in with the ever-present heat in his groin from the repeated brushing against his prostate. At this point his head just lolls against Cedric, his body limp and unresponsive like a ragdoll while they use him. Somewhere in the background he can hear his brother screaming and a demon laughing, but he can’t see them. He can’t even determine where the sound is coming from. The only thing that exists right now is the intense feeling of being torn to shreds from the inside out.

 

“F-Fuck, yes!! Ahh!” Cedric then bursts out hoarsely, his fingertips digging into Sam’s hips hard enough to leave shiny, new bruises on top of the old ones. And the demon spasms, twitches rolling through his body when his cock grows even harder and bigger inside of the hunter. Sam would scream if he could, but his mouth is stuffed too full and he can’t get his vocal chords to produce any noise. He can only focus on breathing. A choked sound then escapes the black-eyed man below, and he bucks his hips a few more times into the limp body above him, hot ropes of cum shooting into Sam and coating his insides with the sticky, white substance. Sam screws his eyes shut. Cedric stills for a moment, shuddering as he slowly comes down from his high, still panting against Sam’s neck and lapping at the bite mark on his shoulder.

 

Egged on by the sight Winston shoves his cock in as far as Sam’s throat will allow, successfully blocking his airway once again. Sam’s hands instinctively pull tightly at the rope as he begs the demons to pull out, screaming the words in his mind when he fails to push any of the three creatures away with as much as an inch. But Lucas just moans appreciatively and pushes himself deeper inside the young hunter while Cedric’s cock starts to go flaccid.

 

“Thanks for the quality time, Sammy…”

 

Sam barely hears the playful growl from below as Cedric starts to pull his soft cock from the clenched hole. He feels strong puffs of hot air hit his ear, and now the other two are maneuvering him around to allow Cedric to get up. Winston pulls his wet, throbbing cock from his mouth in order to inspect his friend’s work, smiling broadly when he sees drops of cum dripping onto the mattress and blotching it. Trying to ignore the triumphant look on the demon’s face, the young Winchester weakly turns his head to face his brother. The sounds of heavy panting and slaps of skin against skin fill the room’s silence, and Sam’s face contorts into a cringing grimace when Lucas forces his length even deeper inside the wet, overused space.

 

Dean’s head has dropped down in defeat. He couldn’t save Sam and now he has given away a powerful artifact to the one group of people their father told them not to. His stomach is churning violently while Cedric and Peter are exchanging words somewhere nearby. They seem to be almost ready to leave - but Cedric then makes his way over to Dean and kneels down in front of him, grabbing a fistful of his short, light brown hair as he leans down to stare at the older Winchester.

 

“My, my… You _are_ as pretty as they all say,” he says, and his mouth twitches into a dark grin, surprised when Dean doesn’t bite back with one of his usual sarcastic remarks. Instead Cedric realizes that Dean even looks a little frightened. Could it be? The demon’s grin grows wider.

 

“Come on... You can do what you like to him once we’ve got the book,” Peter says in the background. For a moment Cedric keeps his focus on Dean, pulling his head back to show off the hunter’s neck. The hand is tight in Dean’s hair, and he struggles lightly against the pull, a hiss escaping him when hot breath fans against the skin on his neck when the demon leans in a little closer.

 

“Enjoy the show…” the black-eyed man whispers.

 

“C’mon!” Peter snaps impatiently. Finally Cedric reluctantly drops Dean’s head and gets up, dark eyes glinting in the dim light as he stares down the older Winchester. Then both demons turn on their heels and head for the exit.

 

Licking his lip nervously Dean follows them with his gaze. As the heavy door in the room is opened, shrieking on its rusty hinges, a sudden rush of icy air sweeps across the floor and stirs up all of the dust and dirt, instantly making Dean want to cough. Suppressing it he finds himself trying to fathom what the hell happened. How did he end up here? How could he get jumped like that, taken by surprise like some inexperienced, little novice? He doesn’t have an explanation for that. He should, but he doesn’t. God help him, he doesn’t. But still – here he is. Bound and forced to watch as his brother is being molested by these sick monsters, and he can’t stop them. With his eyes wet from frustration Dean’s hands fight to get out of the cuffs for the millionth time with the same result. He isn’t able to free himself, and his wrists only sustain some more bruises and cuts from pulling uselessly on the metal. He was stripped of his shirt when he woke up, so the lock picks stuffed up his sleeves are of course gone. So is every weapon he had brought with him. Apparently these demons are thorough.

 

“Open wide, Sammy!” Winston’s voice suddenly commands, ripping Dean from his train of thought. He flicks his gaze back to his brother, stomach churning and threatening to rid itself of its contents once more. He can only watch as Winston forces himself back into Sam’s mouth, pushing in deep enough for his brother to splutter and gag violently. 

 

“Leave him alone!” Dean yells, hands resuming their fumbling to get out of the cuffs. Winston merely laughs at his outburst, Lucas chiming in with a chuckle as they keep rocking Sam’s body in between them. Anger and desperation flood Dean’s mind, and his fingers frantically search to find any weak link in the chain connecting the cuffs trapping his hands behind the wooden post. But again he comes up short. His fingers expand their search, hands now sliding up and down the wooden surface of the post he is tied to – just like he has done numerous times before.

 

“Stop! Just stop it! I’ll fucking kill you!!” Dean shouts at the demons, bucking against the pole in frustration. White hot anger is surging through him, but he can’t use it for anything. Instead it feels like his mind is in the middle of a meltdown, full-blown panic slowly creeping up on him.

 

“Such an angry, young man….” Winston chuckles, not even looking in Dean’s direction. Instead he bucks his hips harder, making Sam cough loudly. Instantly the young Winchester weakly pulls at his restraints and tries to squirm – but the hard grip on his hair and his free leg keeps him in place with ease. Lucas lets out a groan when Sam moves a little, adding more friction as he thrusts deeper into his abused hole. Cum is seeping out around Lucas’ veiny cock as he pushes in and out of the warm and resisting body beneath him and he lets his head fall back, enjoying the feeling and reveling in the pleasure.

 

“Still so tight…” he grunts, voice deep and slightly hoarse.

 

Dean has to cast down his glance. He can’t bear to watch this. It feels like his heart is about to give out and blinking he fights to suppress the tears prickling in his eyes. By now his hands are just sliding back and forth over the wooden pole mindlessly, going over the same spots over and over again. He swallows a sob that is suddenly trying to make its way out of his mouth. How could he have ever let this happen? How can he be so weak and helpless? This is all his fault… And Sam’s the one who is paying for it. Gritting his teeth Dean digs his fingers into the post, not even wincing when he chips one of his fingernails, cracking it deep enough for blood to drip onto the concrete floor. As he does he thinks he feels something give way under his fingertip, and he instantly stills. Breathless he carefully lets the pad of his finger search the wood – and he realizes that he has managed to apply enough pleasure to cause the surface of the worm-eaten wood to slightly splinter. Without hesitation he carefully wedges his nail under the chipped bit of wood and starts to pry it looser, making sure to keep silent and move slowly. As he tries to block out the horrific sounds in the room and his brother’s choked noises he focuses everything he has got on freeing the two inch splinter of wood and not drop it. He holds his breath as he wedges his nails under the wood a little deeper – and finally he can remove a splinter the size of a toothpick. Carefully he runs his fingers over it. It seems sturdy enough, he thinks, and a small feeling of renewed hope washes through him. Discreetly he sticks the wooden splinter into the lock on one of the cuffs. 

 

Dean prays that the splinter will hold as he twists the slightly too thick pick into the lock, knowing that he only needs to hold up one latch for barely half a second to slip his wrist free. But he also knows that he only has one splinter and two cuffs, the chain between them being attached to the post. The first click happens right as monster number one slams his hips against Sam’s, a throaty and animalistic grunt following, and while Dean’s heart stops at the tiny sound of the restraint releasing its hold the two demons don't seem to hear a thing. Dean holds back a hiss as he pulls the cuff off his bloodied wrist, dried blood gluing the silvery metal to his skin. He forgets to breathe when he feels himself suddenly drop the splinter. His eyes widen and his face must be passable for a look of shock as Winston glances over at him, blowing him a kiss before quickly turning his attention back to the forced blowjob.

 

Dean watches with renewed determination when Winston pulls his length from his brother’s puffy lips, directing him to stick his tongue out, and eagerly he wipes the salty cock across Sam's open mouth. Meanwhile Dean’s fingers pat the cement floor and eventually he feels a tiny bump - and he picks the splinter back up, reminding himself to stay calm as he starts to search for his closest possible weapon. Instantly he spies a crowbar resting against the door sill by the exit, but after short consideration he decides that he simply won’t have time to reach it. On his other side is a pile of rope that surrounds a chair, seemingly bolted to the floor below. Also unhelpful. Dean peels the second cuff off his wrist and shifts his weight onto his toes, preparing to lunge at the demons as he loosely plans for an attack.

 

The only weapon in his sight is some small, curved hunting knife sticking out from Winston's back pocket. It’ll have to do. Dean hopes that he can make it, hopes that the element of surprise can buy him just enough time to knock the demons back and cut Sam free from his restraints. Taking a deep breath Dean apologizes mentally to Sam as he waits for Winston to shove himself back inside of his brother’s mouth. Lucas has his head leaned back, eyes closed - so he won't see anything until Dean gets his fingers on that blade.

 

Dean bows his head, seemingly in defeat, and waits for his breathing to even out and turn into some sort of decent rhythm. Listening hard he lets Sam’s choked gasps be his green light to charge. As much as it hurts both him and Sam to wait, he needs the demons to be as distracted as possible if he’s gonna stand a chance. In the same moment Sam tries to scream around Winston’s cock, and Dean tenses – this is his cue. And leaping from his kneeling position Dean is already closing the gap between them, his eyes sharp and focused solely on the monster calling the shots. While gliding through the air the older Winchester pulls his right hand back while his left reaches for the blade – and with two swift movements he snatches the blade while delivering a punch directly to Winston’s nose with his fist. With a surprised howl Winston’s meat suit topples off of Sam and rolls several feet away from the soiled mattress. Dean’s left hand has already swung the knife, slicing the rope holding Sam’s knee, only to cut straight through the ropes tying his little brother’s wrists to the floor.

 

Lucas, fortunately, has barely opened his eyes at this point - just like Dean hoped it would pan out. He quickly tosses the blade to his dominant hand and aims for the demon’s jugular vein, blood instantly erupting from Lucas’ neck when the blade slices through his skin like was it made of butter. The creature wheezes and instantly tries to close the wound with his hand as he too falls backwards and away from the mattress.

 

The older Winchester sees red as he launches another attack at Lucas, pulse roaring in his ears and teeth exposed in a snarl. He hurdles forwards and shoves the blade straight through the demon’s heart, quickly twisting the blade and letting the major organ spew out blood in pulsing jets of dark crimson. As the older hunter feels his heart hammer away and he breathes sharply and fast, he glares at Lucas while he keeps twisting the blade around inside the creature’s ribcage. But his eyes start to widen when the body in front of him doesn’t fall to the ground.

_‘Shit’_ , Dean thinks, and he quickly remembers that it of course isn’t his demon-killing blade that he is holding. It is just a regular hunting knife and it is not specifically designed for the supernatural. But he will not back down. He will kill these monsters with his bare hands, no matter how impossible it may be. Because he has to. Why hasn’t he ever memorized any of those Latin spells that his brother knows like the back of his hand? They sure would come in handy now, he thinks to himself bitterly. Quickly Dean is then roughly shoved backwards when Lucas pulls the blade from his now deceased meat suit with ease, his eyes looking blacker than ever.

 

“Sammy, don't you dare move,” Winston’s voice suddenly orders in a vicious tone somewhere behind Dean, and he feels the base of the mattress slightly nudging the heel of his shoe.

 

“Dean, I’m gonna hafta insist that you turn around. Nice and slow,” the voice orders. But Dean isn’t going to. No, he is going to lunge right back at Lucas and use everything he has to end the demon’s life. He is planning to tear those black orbs from the demon’s skull, to rip the demon smoke from its meat suit and to break every bone in that human skeletal structure. But just as he is about to pounce the familiar sound of a safety being clicked off causes him to freeze in his tracks. When the hell did Winston get a hold of a gun? Frantically his mind spins. He can’t assume that the gun isn’t loaded – so he turns around. Slowly - as instructed – he faces Winston.

 

The barrel of the gun doesn't point at him though. No, the barrel is pointed straight down at Sam who has weakly managed to roll onto his stomach. And now Dean can see the damage, all of the new stains of blood and semen that soak the old, molding mattress. Sam's body is shaking when he tries to hold himself up on his elbows, but he quickly falls face first back down on the mattress when his muscles give in, a sob escaping him. The bruises are shiny and plentiful all over his hips and sides, one particularly standing out on his lower ribs where it looks like he has been kicked pretty violently. Dean fights with his internal self not to lash out, not to scream, not to lunge at the creature, not to play out any of all the scenarios flashing through his overworked mind. Because he can’t afford it. Not with a gun being pointed at his brother’s head.

 

“You bastard…” Dean says, choking back the vomit threatening to follow the firmly spat words. His current intake of air is a large give-away on his emotional state, stars sailing in his vision from too much oxygen and rage in his veins. The mere sight of Sam has his blood boiling at an all time high.

 

“I’ll kill you,“ Dean states, and the words have some serious weight behind them – even to a demon’s ear. But Winston just scoffs at him.

 

“No, Dean, you won’t. You’ll never get close enough," he says. His tone is so calm it makes Dean’s skin crawl. He’s so confident, so sure of himself.

 

“Sammy, roll over like a good, fucking puppy,” Winston orders.

 

“You—" Dean growls and takes a step closer, his face twitching as fury overrides his system when he watches Sam actually obeying the order from this piece of scum.

 

“Don’t even, Dean! One wrong move! One! You hear me? You have angered me enough since Peter dragged your sorry, useless ass in here!" Winston snarls. As Sam rolls over completely Dean's eyes flick from the demon to his little brother, looking at more bruises, more marks and scars that don’t belong on him. And Dean knows that he can only stand here and be forced to watch as Winston calls the shots. Because Dean also knows that this demon would take great pride in delivering Sam’s soul to Hell.

 

Sam raises a trembling hand defensively and doesn’t even try to stop the new sets of tears as they roll down his face, adding to the filthiness of the soaked mattress. He looks up, not to glance at Winston, but to look at the barrel of the handgun. And he now knows what it feels like to both want to live and to die all at the same time. He rubs one wrist against the new tears and accidentally smears blood across his face.

 

“Delicious, isn’t he?” Winston says, and Dean hears the second demon growl a warning for him to stay still just as a strong arm is wrapped around him, forcing him into a reverse bear hug when Lucas comes up from behind. The blood spattered knife is glistening in the dim light as the demon presses its tip against Dean’s throat. Although that doesn’t stop Dean from shifting when Lucas puts his other hand on his hip, rubbing the skin there in a small, unspoken promise of what’s to come. It’s now Winston’s turn to close the gap between them as he takes three slow steps towards both Winchesters.

 

“You ruined my blowjob, Dean,” he dead-pans.

 

“He ruined both our chances to empty ourselves…” Lucas chimes in, the muscles in his arms flexing as Dean pointlessly tries to pull out of his hold. Winston’s black, soulless eyes flick back and forth between the brothers while Dean shifts uneasily - but he is being somewhat pliant by the sight of the gun. He has to be. Sam is trying to move his sore body away from Winston now that some of his focus seems to be elsewhere. But the demon quickly plants a shoe on Sam’s shoulder to stop the young hunter from moving, applying the slightest amount of pressure in a silent warning and forcing part of Sam’s body to sink back into the mattress below him.

 

Seconds later everyone’s attention is redirected when the loud laughs of Peter and Cedric can be heard as they enter the room. They both stop their laughing instantly when they realize that Dean is no longer kneeling by the post. But as their onyx eyes quickly scan their surroundings the two demons soon realize that their friends have everything under control.

 

“Oh, son… You will just not learn, will you?” Peter states flatly into the room, holding the Book of Arconsiel high for their other two friends to see.

 

“You weren’t gone long?” Winston says, his expression stern as his jet black glance fixes on the book.

 

“Turns out there was nothing stopping us from taking the book,” Peter says, sounding almost a little offended. Dean can all too easily picture the book just sitting neatly in a locked drawer of the worn study desk, not even hidden very well behind the stacks of empty oil drums in the warehouse. He doubts that he even locked the drawer when he got Sam’s call.

 

“So what you’re tellin’ me is that Dean-o here lied. Again? Even after your warning?” Winston spits and sends the older Winchester an ominous glare. Dean is breathing hard through his nose, teeth gritting so hard that it feels like he might crack a tooth.

 

“Sure seems like it, boss,” Peter says, the corner of his mouth lifting itself up into the tiniest of smirks. Winston clicks his tongue while shaking his head, black eyes sparkling with something that has Dean’s gut twisting itself into an even tighter knot.

 

“Well… That’s a shame,” Winston says lowly, pressing his shoe a bit harder against Sam’s shoulder and earning a wheezing sound from the young hunter.

 

“I guess we’ll have to punish you then, won’t we?” Winston says, and his gaze flicks from Sam back to Dean. The three demons look at their leader and slowly an approving chuckling sound is filling the room. It’s like they know what Winston is planning, and it makes Dean feel more than uneasy. Shifting in Lucas’ grip he still grits his teeth, glaring daggers at Winston as the creature briefly wipes at his bloodied nose with the back of his sleeve.

 

“Broke my nose as well. Oh, you’ve really got it coming,” he says lowly, but Dean’s mind is spinning so fast that he can’t really determine who he is talking to. Is the threat directed at him or his brother? He can’t tell, and it scares him.

 

“Fuck you,” Dean spits, jaw muscles clenching in both anger and fear. Winston merely huffs.

 

“You’re surprisingly brave considering where my gun is pointing,” the demon whispers in a threatening tone of voice as he waves the gun back and forth a little next to Sam’s head. Dean wants to lunge forwards, but he manages to stay completely still and bite his tongue instead. He can’t risk Sam getting hurt further. He has already caused him too much pain and suffering. He wishes to God that he could trade places with him, that he could just take all of his pain away. After all, this is all Dean’s fault and he should be the one taking the fall. Not Sam. 

 

“Drop your pants,” Winston suddenly says. Instantly Dean’s eyes widen.

 

“What?” he says, not quite sure if his mind is playing tricks on him.

 

“You heard me,” Winston says dryly, nudging the barrel of the gun against Sam’s head, causing the young hunter to flinch.           

                     

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

Winston is glaring at Dean, his pink tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. With the color draining from his face the older Winchester just stares at the demon for a moment, dumbstruck. But the gun pressing against Sam’s head quickly gets him moving. He has no choice and he cannot risk Sam getting hurt any further. Let alone killed. With a huff Dean nods shortly and shoves a little at Lucas whose arm is still wrapped around his throat, indicating to him that he’s going to comply. The demon behind him quickly steps back, releasing Dean from the suffocating grip.

 

“Alright, sicko… If that’s what gets you off,” Dean spits under his breath as he reaches for the belt in his jeans, unbuckling it with fingers that want to tremble. But he controls himself, keeping his head as cool as he can while doing as he is told. When he lets the jeans drop to the floor the surrounding demons eagerly whistle and yell vulgar words at him, black eyes raking over his body as he is stripped down to his boxers. All too quickly the denim pool around his ankles and a cool breeze fans over Dean’s skin as he stands there, feeling vulnerable and waiting for whatever might come next.

 

“You have no idea what gets me off,” Winston says coldly, but a smile is playing on his lips.

 

“I plan on letting you in on it though…” he adds and sends Dean a wink that makes nausea roll through him. Winston’s glance then flicks down to the hunter’s boxers, clearly studying the slight bulge behind the cotton.

 

“Aww, we put on such a good show for you, Dean-o, but you’re not even hard!” Winston grins, and right away the remaining demons chime in, laughter echoing between the walls in the room.

 

“Sorry, I guess I’m not a sick enough fuck to get off on rape!” Dean hisses, eyes blazing with fury. But the demons just keep laughing as he stands there semi-naked, arms hanging down his sides and hands closed into angry fists.

 

“Tsk, tsk. Don’t be such a prude,” Winston says and then looks down at Sam. The young hunter has stilled completely under the weight applied by the demon’s dress shoe, and now he just lies there on his back on the soiled mattress while slightly trembling.

 

“Hey, Sammy…” Winston purrs and kneels down next to him, finally removing his shoe. Sam draws in a ragged breath when he feels the demon come closer, but he is too fatigued to curl up into a ball like his mind instructs him to. Instead he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels long fingers grab his hair and pull his head upwards.

 

“What do you say we help Dean out?” Winston whispers in his ear.

 

“Don’t touch him!” Dean yells, but he doesn’t dare to move. The gun in Winston’s hand is slowly travelling down Sam’s cheek, drawing a line through blood, sweat and saliva as it moves.

 

“Shut up, I’m trying to have a nice conversation with your brother here!” Winston barks at Dean, and the older Winchester has no choice but to fall silent. He can only watch as the demon crouching next to his brother slowly tightens his grip in Sam’s hair a little more, making him wince.

 

“Maybe we can get your brother interested if you help him out a little…” Winston says, flicking his glance back up to Dean to gauge his reaction. The older Winchester is still standing there in his boxers, now looking both confused and fearful. Winston chuckles and shakes Sam a little by the hair, making him let out a gasp as he scrunches up his face.

 

“With lips like yours I’m sure he’ll get excited,” Winston then says, starting to laugh.

 

“Boys! Let’s let Dean-o have a seat, shall we?!” he then says loudly and instantly the sound of feet shuffling and moving across the concrete floor fill the room. Before Dean even has the chance to react three demons surround him, hooking their arms under his and dragging him towards the heavy chair in the corner. His mind is whirling in a growing panic, racing to piece together what Winston is hinting at even though he thinks he might know. But it must be his mind short-circuiting. Either way he refuses to even acknowledge the thought trying to invade his mind.

 

“Let go!” Dean hisses, but he doesn’t fight back. He can’t. And all too soon he is pushed into the seat of the wooden chair, demons working on each side of him to tie his wrists to the chair’s back and his ankles to its sturdy legs. The hemp rope is rough against his already bloodied and raw wrists and he lets out a hiss when his restraints are tightened hard enough to cut off the circulation. Before two minutes have passed he is firmly secured to the chair, unable to move his limbs at all.

 

“Now, Sammy… As you know your brother fucked up again…” Winston says, sticking the gun in the waist band in the back of his dress pants nonchalantly.

 

“And we will punish _you_ for that,” he continues, starting to pull Sam up from the mattress. A pained whimper escapes Sam as he is roughly pulled up into a kneeling position, cringing as he feels all of the slick running down his inner thighs to soak the mattress further.

 

“He has simply ruined one too many blowjobs for my liking. So now you’re gonna give _him_ one,” Winston says and chuckles as he feels Sam stiffen in his grip.

 

“I think he’d like that, don’t you?” he grins and wraps his arms around Sam’s upper chest from behind, yanking him up from the mattress. Sam’s feet scuffle underneath him as he is forced to stand up, and then the words suddenly take form and their full meaning begin to sink in. When Sam starts to comprehend the words a large hand roughly shoves him forwards, and he stumbles on his own feet, falling to the dusty, concrete floor. With a thud he lands, barely managing to break the fall with his forearms as dust whirls up into the air. Visible scuff marks from the three demons and Dean can be seen on the floor, and Sam winces when pain shoots through his body from the fall. He coughs as the dust starts to settle around him. And ever so slowly he feels that familiar, sinking feeling in his chest and stomach, the urge to vomit becoming more and more tempting as his eyes shift around the room in a swirl of motion, landing on his brother who is testing the restraints of his new enclosure. Peter has grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair, tugging at it and making the hunter crane his neck while Lucas and Cedric scoff at him and spew whispered and ominous promises of what's to come. Winston must not have said the words very loudly, because Dean doesn’t seem like he has realized what is about to be forced upon the two of them.

 

Cedric’s attention shifts to Sam and the young man must look like he’s going to get up and run for the door, because the demon takes three large steps towards him right as Winston moves to Sam’s side, his hand quickly fisting a handful of the hunter’s long chestnut strands.

 

“No!” Sam hisses, and Winston stifles a laugh, knowing Sam meant the word to come out a little louder than the broken whisper he managed. Both of Sam’s hands rise to Winston’s as he attempts and fails to pry the demon’s claws from his head. His feet are a scuffling mess as he kicks and struggles, prolonging the inevitable as the two creatures start to pull at him.

 

“No! Stop!” Sam cries out - a little louder this time - and Dean's eyes instantly flick to his brother being dragged closer and closer. Sam lets out a choked scream and yells at Winston again, struggling and fighting with the little strength he has left as he is pulled the last three meters to the chair. In the blink of an eye Sam finds himself halfway kneeling in front of his almost naked brother, the young hunter’s body shaking while he glances wide-eyed at the pale, freckled skin that he’s known his whole life.

 

“Alright, Sammy—"

 

“No!” Sam yells and shakes his head. He tries to pull away from the chair, yanking at the grip on his hair and leaning backwards, but gaining no distance between himself and Dean whatsoever.

 

“I won’t!” Sam gasps.

 

“We’re gonna show Dean here what happens when we’re interrupted—” Winston begins, but once more Sam cuts him off mid-sentence, panic lacing his voice.

 

“No…! Don’t! D-Don’t!” Sam yells, writhing in the hard grip as he is pushed even closer to his older brother. Admittedly, it takes Dean a moment to realize what exactly is going on. But as he studies Sam’s behavior his brows start to furrow, and he turns a shade paler when the pieces fall into place.

 

“You sick fuck!” he spits and yanks angrily at the rope, cutting new wounds into his wrists, and he tries to shuffle backwards in the chair. Like a kicked dog on its way to the vet Sam pulls back, refusing to close the gap and refusing to obediently follow any more orders.

 

“Get off! Let go!” Sam shouts as he feels his scalp stinging painfully when hairs give way from the pull.

 

“Let him go! Sto-aaa-uupp…!!” Dean spits, but before he knows it he is unexpectedly gagged when Peter swiftly loops a rope over his mouth and pulls it tight, forcing Dean’s head back against the backrest of the chair. Snarling incoherently Dean feels how the corners of his mouth ache as the hemp rope digs into the tender flesh there.

 

“There we go,” Peter smirks as he pulls at the rope in short jerks.  

 

“No more interruptions, boss…” he says, patting Dean’s head patronizingly as he sends Winston a short and almost proud glance.

 

Lucas is rubbing his hand over his own cum-covered cock at the sight of the struggling brothers, and Cedric roughly slaps his hand down on Sam’s shoulder, pushing his thumb into one of the pressure points at the back of Sam’s neck.

 

“Fuck you! I won’t!” Sam growls, and the collective laughter makes him feel about two inches tall.

 

“You say that like you have a choice right now, Sammy,” Lucas smirks and grips the base of his cock, laughing down at the young and naked hunter. Cedric’s grip becomes just a tad meaner as Winston finally lets Sam’s hair go and leans down towards him, his hot breath caressing the shell of his ear.

 

“You are gonna put your brother’s cock in your—"

 

“No…!” Sam interrupts and feels how bile tickles his throat. But he is not surprised when his protest is completely ignored.

 

“In your mouth—"

 

“No! No…!”

 

“Or—"

 

“I won’t! Y-You can’t…!” Sam yells and grits his teeth. Desperately he tries to dislodge Cedric’s hand, thrashing back and forth helplessly as the thumb digs itself deeper into his aching muscle. Winston lets out an impatient snarl and raises his hand, striking Sam hard. Dean instantly starts to fight against his restraints when he sees his brother spit out a mouthful of blood onto the cement floor.

 

“ _Or_! We are gonna hold you down, tie your pretty ass up and force you to ride that pathetic excuse of a cock that your brother has been hiding from you your whole life…” Winston says, a diabolical gleam playing in his pitch black eyes. He and Cedric then exchange glances, clearly thinking the same thing despite the silence. And swiftly Sam is shoved into Dean’s lap, making both brothers flinch when Sam’s hands land on top of Dean’s legs to prevent him from ending up with his face buried in his brother’s crotch. Rough hands on Sam’s shoulder blades hold him firmly in place on top of the older Winchester.

 

“No, no, no…” Sam chants. His mouth is open as he gasps and tries to ignore the pending panic attack threatening to overwhelm his body and mind. His head is dipped between Dean’s knees, and he violently starts to dry retch. Nothing comes up, and the young man between Dean’s knees has never looked more defeated as tries to steady his breathing.

 

“Please… Please, don’t make me do this…” Sam rasps, his arms and shoulders trembling as he fights the firm push from above.

 

“Please! I’ll-I’ll do anything you want, just… Just please not this!” Sam says hoarsely, growing desperation filling his voice when the demons just chuckle at him indifferently. Cedric presses his thumb deeper into his muscle, watching as the young hunter lets out an agonized, panting sound when pain zaps through him. Shaking Sam tries to lift his head up to increase the distance between his face and his brother’s boxers, tries to turn away – but it only causes Cedric to dig the digit in deeper and harder.

 

“Do you hear that, guys? Now he wants to do anything we want…!” Winston scoffs. Instantly the room echoes with laughter. Leaning into Sam a little he brushes a stray strand of hair away from his face almost affectionately.

 

“But don’t you think it’s a little late for that, Sammy?” he asks, his voice sounding both threatening and amused at the same time. Sam inhales raggedly, trying to withstand the ever increasing pressure from Cedric’s hand on the back of his neck.            

 

“P-Please…! I’ll… I’ll s-suck you off…!” Sam bursts out. Tears of desperation is fogging his vision, making the colorful pattern on Dean’s boxers blur out and sail in front of his eyes. Winston starts to chuckle lowly, and Sam can feel him stroking his hair.

 

“That’s kind of you to offer, Sam. Really, it is. But I’m afraid it’s too little too late. No one’s trading places with your brother…” the demon whispers maliciously.

 

“Besides, you’re gonna take all of our cocks anyway. Whether you want to or not. But now… Now you’re gonna suck your brother’s dick - unless you want me to jump inside that fine body of his and fuck your ass with it?” Winston says with a smug grin.

 

“Or maybe I could put a bullet in him,” he smirks lowly, suggestively tapping the silvery surface of the handgun tucked into the waistband of his dress pants. Sam’s mind is racing frantically and he can hear himself letting out a series of whimpers mixed in with the choked sound of repressed sobs. Under his palms he can feel Dean’s thighs lightly tremble and muffled protests spill from the older Winchester as he tries to thrash against his restraints.

 

“Tick tock, Sammy,” Winston says threateningly. Dizzy and wheezing for air Sam can’t hold back a sob making its way out of his mouth as he stares down at Dean’s boxers, his tears staining the fabric in wet blotches. And finally he manages to nod ever so slightly, pain radiating from the thumb buried in his neck. Instantly approving sounds escape the four demons surrounding the brothers, and the air in the room seems to turn electric when Winston leans down further to hum praises in Sam’s ear, patting his head.

 

“Good boy…” he says, his breath hitting Sam’s ear in warm puffs of air.

 

“Cedric?” Winston then says in a commanding tone of voice and instantly the other demon lets his free hand slide across the soft bulge in Dean’s boxers, earning another muffled protest from the older Winchester. Sam shudders, trying to look up at Dean despite the hard grip on his neck. He manages to catch a short glimpse of his brother’s face – and his expression makes his heart feel like it is plummeting to the bottom of his gut, skipping a beat as it does. His older brother looks absolutely heartbroken. And panicked. And furious. And at the same time the look on his face reminds Sam of someone in deep sorrow. He can’t really decipher all the expressions flashing across Dean’s features, but he knows for sure that his brother is in complete distress. And he can’t help him. Sam wants to tell his brother that he’s sorry. That he hopes that he can forgive him. But it’s like his vocal chords are nearly paralyzed.

 

“Mmm, let’s see what we’ve got down here,” Cedric says, breathing heavily as he slips his hand under the elastic waistband of Dean’s boxers and pulls his uninterested dick free. A small hiss escapes Dean, but it’s rendered inaudible because of the rope pressed in between his lips. Cedric kneads the soft flesh a little before waving it in front of Sam’s face, chuckling menacingly.

 

“Please, God, no…” Sam pleads under his breath, but it comes out almost completely soundless. Again his stomach feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out, nausea washing through him. But there is literally nothing to throw up and he merely lets out a choked sound when his gut nearly cramps. In the same moment Winston places his hand on top of his head.

 

“You really don’t wanna keep us waiting…” he says coldly. The threat is clear. And the thumb in Sam’s neck digs itself in a little deeper, fibers of muscle lightly tearing in the process. He doesn’t really register it though. Instead his mind spins in panicked desperation as he tries to focus on what he has to do. And slowly he gives in to the pressure on his neck, reluctantly letting Cedric push his face down towards his brother’s crotch. Tears stream freely down Sam’s face and he can feel Dean’s legs tremble violently under his hands as he supports his weight on him, leaning down further and further.  

 

“I’m sorry…” Sam croaks, but he isn’t sure if the words even made it out. He can’t tell. As his bruised lips get closer to Dean’s dick, he closes his eyes and tries to distance himself. At the same time he’s trying to reach out to Dean in his mind, screaming all kinds of hopeless apologies. How can they ever go on from here?

 

Sam suppresses a violent sob as he parts his lips, closing the small distance between himself and his brother. Cedric is still holding Dean’s dick in his hand, squeezing it at the base lightly. And screwing his eyes firmly shut Sam finally lets the soft flesh slip inside his mouth. The reaction is immediate. Dean jumps in the seat – the little he is capable of – and a small gasp escapes him, making Sam’s stomach twist and churn painfully.

 

“Mmffrggh!” Dean spits from behind the rope, and new tears instantly form behind Sam’s closed eyelids. Repressing a whimper he forces himself to take Dean in a little further, not daring to risk provoking the demons by pretending. Whistles and vulgar words rain down over the brothers as the black-eyed men look on, clearly egged on and excited by the sight.

 

“That’s fucking hot,” Lucas says as he starts stroking himself harder, fresh pre-cum glistening at the tip of his cock. The other demons loudly agree, sounds of heavy breathing and wet noises filling the room.

 

“Not like that, Sammy…” Winston suddenly says and adds a little more weight to the hand resting on top of Sam’s head.

 

“You gotta put some more effort into it! You’re not exactly new to this anymore – you know what to do…!” he warns and suddenly he presses his hand down, forcing Sam to take in Dean’s full length. As Sam’s lips hit Cedric’s fingers holding the base of Dean’s cock he can’t hold back from gagging when his airway is blocked. Even though Dean isn’t hard, his size is more than enough to completely clog up Sam’s throat. He wants to flail his arms in a panic, he wants to pull back, he wants to scream – but neither is possible, and he knows it. Instead Sam forces himself to relax his body and throat, feverishly trying not to anger the demons surrounding him and his brother any further. As Dean’s pubes tickle his nose the taste of him slowly spreads in his mouth. Musk and sweat mix with the blood in Sam’s mouth, a combination that has his gut cramping again and for a moment he isn’t sure if he is going to pass out. 

 

“Much better…” Winston whispers with a sadistic sparkle in his jet black eyes. Short gasps escape through Sam’s nostrils, and he tries not to picture Dean in his mind as the now slowly growing cock stuffs his mouth, rutting against the back of his throat. Dean’s legs tense under his palms and Sam tries so hard not to think of his brother, tries to imagine something or someone else. Anything else. Rough hands caress the young hunter’s shoulders like a strange sort of comfort or praise, and Cedric’s other hand releases the base of Dean’s hardening and wet dick.

 

“Good boy…” Cedric praises, seemingly proud of Sam’s ability to take the cock this far into his mouth and keeping it there for as long as he has. But Sam is starting to choke now as the soft flesh starts to enlarge, the tissue gradually filling with hot blood - and while Dean tries to stay still and quiet for his brother, his mind is swirling with disgust and anger. His eyes are screwed shut, and his teeth sink into the ropes when Peter yanks his head back again.

 

“You like that, Dean? Like baby brother’s mouth wettin’ your cock?” Lucas whispers and drags his tongue over the older Winchester’s craned neck. Dean twitches involuntarily at the extra and unexpected touch.

 

“Bet that dick’s gettin’ real hard… Feels good, huh?”

 

Dean hears the voice sing from below him, but he can’t decipher who it is with his eyes squeezed shut and he definitely isn’t opening them right now. Lucas moans against the shell of his ear before nibbling at his lobe and whispering breathlessly against his skin.

 

“You like that, huh?” he purrs, earning a quick, accidental whimper.

 

“I bet you like it rough, yeah?” Lucas then asks and slaps his hand down on Dean’s thigh, gripping the skin just hard enough to leave a decent, red mark. The sudden action causes both of the Winchesters to flinch.

 

“Sammy likes it rough too…” he adds, a sinister smirk forming on his lips. In the same moment Sam finally pulls away, unable to hold his breath any longer. Choking and gasping for air he wheezes, but instantly the four demons growl vulgar remarks at him to get back down and suck on his brother’s semi-hard cock.

 

Dean’s hands instantly tense, turning to fists as he twists them against the ropes, rubbing the raw skin painfully as he tries, again, to pull his fists free. He holds back a sob and silently begs for this to end. For it to play out in a way where by some miracle he and Sam can continue to hunt afterwards. Hell, if he and Sam will even be able to be in the same room or just look at one another after this, he will gladly take that. But his mind flashes forwards, and he knows that he and Sam will have to go their separate ways - at least for a little while. This is definitely not one of those things that they will be able to sleep off. Not even close.

 

Lucas slaps his leg again, leaving another angry, red mark on his skin. Simultaneously Winston shoves Sam’s face back down in Dean’s lap, ripping the older Winchester from his thoughts to slam him back into brutal reality. Instantly he bucks and pulls, but Peter has a strong grip on him, not letting him twist as much as an inch away from the tongue now involuntarily dragging down his length, wet and hot.

 

“Aww,” Winston laughs, his hand lodged in Sam’s hair as he forces the hunter’s head to move vigorously, mouth sliding up and down on Dean’s cock.

 

“Is he cryin’ too?” Winston asks, onyx eyes shimmering in amused excitement.

 

“He sure is, boss. Look at that,” Peter says and lets his hand pull Dean’s head back just an extra inch, so he can catch the teardrop with his tongue, cleaning the side of the hunter’s face. Dean tenses and cringes away from the touch, and his hips try to jerk away but accidently just end up forcing more of him inside of Sam.

 

“Looks like you boys have a bit more in common than you know,” one of the demons says mockingly, leaving his buddies to chuckle lowly. Dean jerks at the wet touches now landing on him again, and his eyes shoot open to stare at the old and crumbling ceiling when he feels something else starting to touch him.

 

“Uggmmff!!” he bursts out, earning another yank of the rope which forces his teeth to grit against the dirty rope covered in oil and dust.

 

“Oh! He liked that!” Peter scoffs with a laugh.

 

“Yeah, he did…!" Cedric chimes in, his fingers massaging the base of Dean’s cock, and the older Winchester thrashes when the fingers then slip between his thighs to caress his tender and swollen balls below.  

 

“Maybe Dean-o would like a finger here…” Cedric whispers and rubs a calloused digit methodically over Dean’s taint, forcing him to react just the way they all want him to. Dean wails out muffled curse words mixed in with tiny hints of moans as he tries to kick his legs out.

 

“Sammy sure did…“ the demon says as he circles the tender, soft flesh hidden between Dean’s legs, making him spit out another incoherent series of curse words, muffled efficiently behind the rope. And then Winston pushes Sam down until Dean’s pubes tickle his nose once more, his cock involuntarily twitching against the back of his little brother’s throat. And Sam desperately tries to remind himself not to bite the intruding appendage while he too thrashes in a panic.

 

“Now, now, boys. Stay on track…” Winston instructs in a sing-song tone of voice. Coughing around the growing cock in his mouth Sam tries to prevent himself from starting to sob. He can’t even start to fathom what is happening. What he is doing. For a moment a sliver of doubt lodges itself in his brain, asking him if he’s sure that this isn’t a nightmare after all. But as his brother’s thighs tremble and flex under his palms while the taste of him slowly spreads in Sam’s mouth he can only come to one conclusion - this is way too vivid and way too cruel to be a dream. No, this is all too real.

 

“Come on, Sammy. Use that tongue of yours…” Winston coaxes and starts to loosen his grip on the hunter’s hair.

 

“And don’t you fucking stop unless I tell you to, got it?!” he warns before finally letting go. As Sam feels the tug on his hair and the weight of Winston’s hand on his head disappear he has to control himself not to pull back instantly. His mind protests and swirls and screams at him in a chaos of emotions when the taste of his brother grows stronger on his tongue, the bitterness of what has to be pre-cum coating his mouth. The muscles in his abdomen seem to nearly cramp once again, trying to rid his stomach of the bile that isn’t even there.

 

“Faster, Sammy!” Winston barks from somewhere behind him, and Sam flinches as he finds himself doing his best to comply. Spluttering around the thick and throbbing cock in his mouth he forces himself to move a little faster, working his tongue up and down the veiny shaft as he goes. He can’t afford to make any more mistakes, can’t afford to anger the demons again. By now long ropes of drool hang from his lips, drenching Dean’s balls and Cedric’s hand.

 

“Nngggh!” Dean spits into the rope, his hands helplessly yanking at the restraints keeping him solidly planted in the heavy chair. His head is swimming. It feels like his groin is on fire, a smoldering heat slowly spreading in his loins while his mind is rebelling with everything it has got. Disgusted with himself he has squeezed his eyes firmly shut once more, not daring to look at anything or anyone. Especially not his brother. His hurt little brother. His hurt little brother who is sucking him off, his mouth making obscene and wet noises around his too hard dick. Dean can’t imagine what Sam must be feeling right now, and he can’t bear the fact that he has actually grown hard. Rock hard. In his brother’s mouth.

 

Bile rises threateningly high in his throat, and he jerks in the seat again – not realizing in time that this will only cause him to slide deeper into Sam’s mouth. Instantly Dean lets out a choked gasp when the head of his cock bumps against the back of his brother’s throat, making him choke and thus earning Dean an overload of sensation when the warm wetness tightens slightly around him in a protesting cough. Shuddering Dean wants to plead for Sam’s forgiveness, wants to cry out one desperate apology after the other. But he can’t, and what good is it going to do? He is trapped here in this chair, fucking his baby brother’s mouth without wanting to – but with a treacherously stiff cock which leaves him to doubt himself and everything he has ever believed in. Everything he has ever felt and known.

 

“So hot…!” Peter whispers breathlessly and yanks a bit at the rope in Dean’s mouth, bruising the corners of his mouth. The demon’s other hand has slipped into his pants, slowly stroking himself with ardor as he stares down at the brothers, dark eyes hooded and lusty.

 

“Like the taste, huh, Sammy? Like the taste of your brother’s cock in your mouth?” Lucas taunts as he looks on from the sideline, watching in curious amazement while the young hunter whimpers around Dean’s cock helplessly. A muffled snarl escapes Dean, but he doesn’t move. He doesn’t dare. 

 

“I think he fucking loves it,” Cedric says from his kneeling position next to the brothers.

 

“And I think good ol’ Dean-o here does too!” he adds and lets his finger massage the older Winchester’s taint again. A choked sound escapes Dean when he finds himself wanting to buck his hips up and away from the unwanted touch – but he knows that he will only plunge himself deeper into Sam’s mouth if he does. So he fights to keep his body still, fights to stay in the seat instead. For his brother’s sake.

 

“Mmm…” Winston hums approvingly, watching in fascination as Cedric lets his finger travel further south, testing the older Winchester. As the digit drags across Dean’s perineum towards his hole, the hunter’s entire body tenses up and starts trembling. But he doesn’t move. Instead he’s gasping for air, nostrils flaring and eyes still squeezed shut. A low, guttural sound escapes him when Cedric then starts to slowly circle the furled muscle. Chuckling fills the room as every set of onyx eyes rest on the brothers, closely studying their every move. 

 

“Fuck. Can’t wait any longer…” Winston then whispers and starts to kneel down on the dusty concrete floor. 

 

“Spread wide, Sammy. It’s my turn,” he says under his breath.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

                     

                       

                     

A big hand softly grasps Sam’s hip and another places itself on the young hunter’s ass cheek, pulling at the flesh to discover the pink hole hidden there. Winston makes a quick sound of delighted approval by the sight, ignoring the small whimper escaping Sam. The demon then begins to lightly press the tip of his cock against the still slick entrance, and soon the spongy head starts to push inside at an agonizingly slow pace.

 

As soon as Sam feels the now familiar stretch he pulls back and lets a gasped moan spill from his bruised lips, letting Dean’s dick slip out of his mouth. His nails automatically dig themselves into the skin below as he grips his brother for some sort of comfort, some sort of consolation. But the only response the young Winchester receives is Lucas snapping at him to get back down to suck on his brother. But Sam can’t. He can’t get himself to do it, can’t even focus on the command the demon spat at him. Instead he wheezes for air, mind starting to panic all over again when the burn starts to spread like rings in the water, rippling through him faster and harder by the second – and the pressure only seems to grow, leaving his mind to spin and his breath to hitch. Trying to control his breathing Sam remembers Cedric’s free hand which is still resting gently on the top of his head, seemingly letting him go at his own pace. Seemingly.

 

A shudder runs through Sam as he rests his head between Dean’s legs for a moment, trying to will his body to somehow calm down. With his sweaty cheek resting on his brother’s thigh, he swallows thickly. Focus, focus, focus. He has to focus on the task at hand or things will turn a lot uglier all too fast. If only he can get his mind to stop spinning like a carousel out of control, then maybe he will be able to persuade himself to relax a bit. But his concentration is abruptly broken when Winston suddenly thrusts his entire length into him, burying himself to the hilt. The young hunter sucks in a sharp breath of air, a whine escaping him as Winston then proceeds to drag his throbbing cock out of him all the way, catching on his rim before plummeting back in, slamming against his prostate. 

 

The demon lets out an excited grunt and bucks his hips two, three, four times, ripping a hoarse groan from Sam’s throat with each thrust. It feels like his insides are being torn apart once more. The young Winchester squeezes his eyes shut when heat starts to pool in his groin at the same time as pain shoots through him. He knows that mix already, and it terrifies him. He doesn’t want to feel any of it right now, and definitely not this sick, unwanted arousal which makes his dick slowly fill. If only he could choose pain over arousal, his mind would be more at ease, he thinks frantically.

 

The hand on top of his head is growing heavier, and Sam realizes that he still hasn’t resumed what he was doing before Winston decided to take his turn. Cedric starts to pat his hair lightly, apparently growing impatient.

 

“C’mon Sammy - big brother wants to blow his load for you…” he smirks and clenches his hand into a fist in Sam’s hair, pulling his head upwards to hover above Dean’s knees. Sam feels his lips brush his brother’s solid, veiny length, making the thighs under his palms tremble once more. In the same second Winston thrusts brutally back inside of him, the stretched ring of muscle expanding and hugging his meaty cock almost painfully tight - and Sam jerks at the feeling of Winston’s hands suddenly slamming down on his shoulders.

 

“Ugh! Please! S-Sorry! I’m so-uufffmmmphh!” Sam starts, but he is cut off when Cedric pushes Dean’s cock in between his lips and then presses the young Winchester’s tear-covered face into Dean’s lap, firmly holding his head down. Locked in position with his brother’s dick rammed down his throat Sam chokes, but he doesn’t dare to move.

 

Dean instantly flinches and cries into the rope, pulling hard at his restraints. A loud string of muffled, protesting sounds flow from his mouth, but none of the words he tries to speak are close to being just somewhat distinguishable. As he struggles Peter grips the rope tight and pulls his head back into place, pressing it against the backrest of the tall, wooden chair. Immobilized and desperate Dean can feel how Sam is choking on his dick, throat clenching and tightening around it. And the vibrations caused by the sounds his little brother’s mouth is making has him writhing in the chair, moaning. And never in his life has Dean felt this guilty. This sick.

 

“That’s it! Good boy!" Cedric praises, finally lifting his hand from Sam and allowing him to pull back just a little to gulp in big and wheezy mouthfuls of air. Cedric then pushes his finger roughly against Dean’s hole, making the older Winchester flinch and let out a yelp.

 

“So tight for me, Sammy!” Winston grunts as he pushes himself into the young hunter once more - only to stay buried this time, his body towering over Sam and holding him in position with ease. Sam splutters around Dean’s cock when his walls seem to expand beyond what feels physically possible, and he wants to move away. But he can’t move as much as an inch. Instead his head is dipped into Dean’s lap, trembling thighs bracketing his face while he chokes on his brother’s length – and at the same time Winston starts pulling out of his ass again, leaving his insides to feel like they are on fire.

 

“I want you to clench that hole for me!” Winston then growls, the pads of his fingers burying themselves in Sam’s hips as he pulls him back, slamming him against his pelvis and forcing his cock even deeper inside the young Winchester. Sam gasps around Dean, choking and spluttering around him, his whole body clenching - giving both Winston exactly what he wants and Dean exactly what he doesn’t. A groan escapes both his brother and the demon, the sound a mix between pleasure and agony. Sam whimpers as he tries to calm his mind just a tiny bit, tries to assure himself that it’s going to be okay. But it’s like even his own mind doesn’t listen to him anymore, and for the first time ever he isn’t persuaded by that little, optimistic voice in his head.

 

“Again!” Winston barks, and in the same moment a flat hand strikes Sam’s ass cheek with a loud ‘smack’, ripping him out of his chain of thought. Automatically he jumps when a burning feeling spreads on his skin, another gasp escaping him. And again the demon groans as he revels in the feeling of Sam’s body tightening around him, clenching involuntarily. Dean bites down hard on the rope, trying to ignore how his brother is gasping and spluttering around his dick, sending vibrations through him which make him feel things that he does not want to feel. That he shouldn’t even be able to feel. Desperately he tries to suppress a sudden urge to start crying uninhibitedly. Nothing can ever make this right. Nothing.  

 

As a red handprint slowly starts to take shape on Sam’s ass, Winston strikes him again. Hard. And once more the young hunter’s body instinctively reacts to the sharp sting of pain, jumping and writhing and unintentionally stimulating both his brother and the demon. Sam gasps, screwing his eyes shut. And again Winston’s broad hand hits him, whipping through the air and landing on his ass mercilessly.

 

“Ggghhhr!” Sam splutters around Dean’s cock, and he can feel how his brother’s thighs shake violently under his palms. The taste of pre-cum and sweat is everywhere in Sam’s mouth, and his gut twists as he tries to calm himself down once more. But it doesn’t really seem to work. Another slap hits him and he lets out a muffled hiss around his brother as his body jumps of its own volition. He thinks he can hear Dean let out a moan, but he isn’t sure of anything anymore. All he can feel is how full he is, how his ass and mouth ache and stretch around the intruding lengths seemingly trying to split him in two. And the slaps are raining down on him now, adding to the intense chaos of different feelings shooting through him. His ass cheek has almost turned a shade of purple, but Winston keeps delivering one vicious blow after the other, making Sam cry out. It feels like his skin is being ripped off. Above him he thinks he hears Dean make some strange, guttural sounds – but again, he can’t really tell.

 

“How does it feel, Dean?” Peter suddenly whispers in the older Winchester’s ear, leaning over him from behind the chair. A malicious smirk is decorating the demon’s pale face, and he lets a fingertip slide down the hunter’s sweaty and slightly craned neck.

 

“Mm? How does it feel to have your baby brother go down on you?” Peter asks, completely ignoring Dean attempting to squirm away and curse at him.             

 

“Just look at him stuffed so full of cock… Turns you on, doesn’t it?” he continues, tightening the rope in Dean’s mouth a little when it sounds like the hunter is trying to scream at him. Trying to protest.

 

“Oh yeah, you’re turned on, alright. And I think Sammy here can testify to that,” Peter giggles and looks down on the young Winchester, his head bobbing up and down on Dean’s hard cock. Another protesting sound escapes Dean, but this time it sounds like the spite has somehow seeped out of it.

 

“You’re a perverted son of a bitch, Dean Winchester…” Peter softly states as he keeps stroking himself while tightening the rope in Dean’s mouth just a bit more. He then licks a stripe up his neck, laughing as he tries to turn away.

 

“It’s fucking delightful!” the demon grins and exchanges looks with Cedric, giving the smaller man a quick nod, causing an even sicker grin to flash across his features.

 

“So fucking hot!” Lucas now hisses, finally stepping back into the chaos of bodies and obscene noises.

 

“I’m gonna cum if y’all keep this up,” he announces and continues to stroke his length, now a little slower, as he positions himself by Sam’s side.

 

“And I’m gonna fill his mouth…” Lucas says and runs his hand softly through Sam’s locks.

 

“How many loads has he taken?” Peter asks from behind the chair, but his question goes unanswered - everyone's eyes are on the brothers, busy watching and noting every detail.

 

Cedric shortly looks up at Dean, a smile playing on his lips. He then pushes his fingertip inside the ring of muscle, letting the older Winchester’s tightly clenched hole hug just the tip of his finger.

 

“Nnnfffghh!!” Dean spits as his mind and body fight to keep just somewhat calm. But he fails miserably, trying to jerk away from the intrusion. Cedric is completely unaffected though. He just follows and slightly wiggles the digit to allow its tip to be fully engulfed inside the hot tightness. The demons revel in the muffled sounds now slipping from Dean.

 

“You look like you’re gonna cum, Dean-o?” Peter snickers in the hunter’s ear. A quick glance down Dean’s trembling body tells Peter all he needs to know.

 

“Are ya gonna force Sammy to swallow that load?”

 

Dean’s body tries to arch off the chair by the words, and even though his eyes are squeezed firmly shut he can feel them starting to roll to the back of his head at the overload of sensation he is feeling.

 

“He’s - gonna swallow - it – ugh - anyway-" Winston snaps between thrusts, driving his throbbing cock in as far as Sam’s body will allow.

 

“How many loads has that boy taken?” Peter repeats, bucking into his own hand. He’s almost painfully hard and he wonders if he could get Dean's hand to help him out. On his left Lucas blurs his hand over his cock at the sight of the brothers.

 

“Two loads...” Lucas barely manages to respond.

 

“Yeah, both mine," Cedric laughs, pushing his finger into Dean to the second knuckle, twisting and turning the digit around and thrusting the small inch in and out of the resisting hole. Instantly Dean tries to cry out, his body clenching as it tries to rid itself of the intruding finger – but it is to no avail. The rope in his mouth keeps going slack only to tighten once more in an almost rhythmical fashion, and without much thought he assumes that Peter must be preoccupied.

 

“Mmmppfff! Nnnnuughhh!!” Dean bursts out, voice strained and muffled. Cedric is twisting his digit and bumping it into the small bundle of nerves inside of him, and the hunter starts to lose control of himself, jerking and bucking against the finger when it ignites something deep inside of him.

 

By the sight Lucas takes another step towards the helpless brothers, his eyes hooded and sparkling with lust.

 

“Oh! Shi- Fuck!” he says as he speeds up the movement of his hand, tugging his foreskin back and forth over his cockhead frantically, the sight of the two Winchesters being almost too much for him.

 

“Boss, I got something here f-for Sammy…!” he groans. As Winston keeps pushing himself into the snug fit of Sam’s hole a wide smirk decorates his face, and he turns slightly to send his fellow demon a nod.

 

“Better give it to him then…”

 

Lucas wastes no time. He roughly snatches a handful of Sam’s chestnut locks and drags him from Dean’s throbbing cock to his own. And without resisting Sam lets the demon push himself inside of his mouth, the black-eyed man letting out an appreciative grunt.

 

In front of them the older hunter involuntarily spasms as the cool and musty air surrounds his swollen and throbbing member, leaving it standing red and angry and without stimulation. His teeth instantly sink into the rope as he muffles back a whimper. Behind him Peter ruts against his bound hands, and the hunter tries to jerk away, cringing as the veiny flesh touches him. But that reaction isn’t received well, and Peter pulls harder at the rope, adding to the pressure on Dean’s mouth and lips. The older Winchester winces in pain while Peter continues to rut against his hands which are clenched into hard fists.

 

Sam is gasping below, choking around Lucas as he forces his cock in and out of the young hunter’s tired and sore mouth.

 

“I’m not gonna last…!” Lucas cries as he pushes his entire six and a half inches inside. Sam thrashes and panics as his airway is forced shut again.

 

“Good boy, Sammy! Choke on that! Ugh! He’s so fucking good!" Lucas grunts.

 

“Open your hand,” Peter’s voice suddenly says in Dean’s ear. The older Winchester’s head spins. He can’t seriously be making this request. Not now.

 

“Dean-o. Open your hand. Don’t be dumb…” Peter says. His voice is so quiet that Dean doubts if anyone but he can hear him. And Peter continues to rut his cock against the hunter’s clenched fist.

 

"Do you really want Sammy to learn any more lessons today? Open your hand,” Peter warns. His words feel like a slap to the face, and suddenly Dean can’t tell if he can feel his heart pounding or if it has actually stopped - but he definitely feels his head pulsing and swirling with disgust. In defeat he lets his right hand go a little slack. Vomit and bile immediately rise in his throat when he feels Peter push his cock inside of his loose fist.

 

“Yeah, good boy, that’s it… A little more…” he groans as he slips his cock into Dean’s palm.

 

“Keep your hand still, that's it…” he says breathlessly when he starts to thrust. The feeling of the hard flesh slipping in and out of his hand is beyond revolting and Dean winces. Simultaneously Cedric pulls his finger from his hole, making some annoyed comment about how Dean sitting down is making it difficult for him to get to his hole properly. Cursing a little under his breath he then pushes his hand back down past Dean’s sack and probes another finger into the tight space there. Flinching Dean lets out a protesting sound when the rough digits push at his entrance, slowly slipping inside. It burns, yet still Dean is surprised that it doesn’t hurt more than it does. It should hurt so bad that he should be able to focus on the pain – and the pain alone. Not that weird heat starting to pool threateningly in his groin. Ashamed and with cheeks burning Dean lets out a strained sound when Cedric pushes the two fingers deeper inside, crooking them a bit to brush against that soft spot inside of him again. Unable to stay still Dean jerks in the chair, earning a grin from Cedric and a groan from Peter when he accidentally tightens his fist a little around the demon’s cock.

 

“Fuck yeah! You’re learning…!” Peter grunts. Dean wants to close his hand and rip the creature’s dick clean off – but he knows that he will only hurt his brother if he tries anything. Somewhere below he can hear Sam splutter around Lucas’ cock, wet noises filling the room as the demon assaults his mouth mercilessly.

 

“Take my fucking cock, bitch!” Lucas moans, his hips jerking hard in an irregular rhythm as he rams his dick down the young Winchester’s throat. Sam gags and instinctively tries to pull back and away. But the hard grip on his hips keeps him almost completely still, trapping him between Winston’s body and Lucas’ legs. If he tries to pull away from Winston, then he chokes on the cock in his mouth, and if he attempts to back away from the length ramming down his throat he will only impale himself further on the dick in his ass. Nearly blinded from tears Sam feels his hands flailing when the corners of his blurry vision start to go dark.

 

“F-Fuckkk!!!” Lucas growls, his grip on Sam’s hair tightening painfully. And in the same moment the demon shoots jets of hot cum into the hunter’s mouth, filling it up completely. As the creature’s hips jerk and buck a few more times while the orgasm rips through him, Sam is certain that he going to pass out. In fact he hopes he does.

 

“Swallow it!” Lucas orders, out of breath. His fingers are still gripping Sam’s locks tight on each side of his head, holding him in place and not allowing him to pull back. With his nose buried in the demon’s pubes and with the dick pressed halfway down his throat, Sam has no choice but to start swallowing. At first he feels like he is going to cough violently and the feeling of panic flooding his mind is making it hard to get his body to comply, but he manages to convince himself to do a swallowing motion. It hurts to move his sore muscles, but he does it anyway. As the warm and bitter liquid flows down his throat Sam can feel his gut cramping in a silent protest, and he has to concentrate in order for the sticky substance to stay down.

 

“Yeah! Fucking swallow that cum!” Lucas says, tugging at Sam’s hair as he feels how the hunter’s throat is working around his shrinking cock. Shuddering the sweaty demon then pulls out half an inch, allowing the remaining cum in Sam’s mouth to pool in the back of his throat. Wheezing Sam sucks in air through his nose now that he can finally breathe again, and instantly the dark corners in his vision fade. As he breathes the taste of the semen in his mouth intensifies and makes him cringe. Technically Sam could spit the rest of it out now, but the demon is leaning down a little to glare at him.

 

“Swallow,” he says flatly. Sam shivers. He wants to spit the foul substance out of his mouth, wants to spit it right in the demon’s face. But he doesn’t dare. He doesn’t dare to risk it. Or Winston might actually possess his brother and make good of his promise. The demon is clearly challenging him, but Sam knows that he has to yield. And feeling like he going to retch Sam forces himself to swallow.               

 

“Thatta boy!” Lucas praises, and instantly approving laughter echoes in the room when the remaining demons chime in, clearly impressed. Sam wants to just curl up in a ball and die right in that moment. Never has he felt this pathetic. This filthy.

 

“Now _that’s_ what you were born for!” Winston grunts as he keeps slamming into Sam from behind, leaving the young Winchester to rock back a forth a little. The flaccid dick in his mouth then slips out, and Sam draws in a ragged breath. But before he has the chance to properly fill his lungs with much needed oxygen, Lucas pushes him back in between Dean’s legs and puts his brother’s dick back in his mouth.

 

“Show your brother how good a cockslut you are!” Lucas taunts and presses Sam down a little more than he needs to, making him cough on Dean’s throbbing length when it strikes the back of his throat. Instantly Sam feels Dean jump, his thighs trembling harder than before underneath his palms as the young hunter clings on to his brother for dear life.

 

“Do it!” Winston barks, and reluctantly Sam resumes the task of giving his brother a blowjob. The thought alone sends shivers through him and his stomach churns. But he has no choice and carefully he tightens his lips ever so slightly as he lets the veiny flesh slide in and out of his sore mouth. Above him his brother lets out something that resembles an agonized groan.    

 

“Feels so good…  A bit tighter for me, Dean-o,” Peter whispers against the shell of Dean’s ear and in the same moment the rope stretching open Dean’s sore mouth begins to go slack, drool falling and hitting his stomach when Peter finally pulls the rope free.

 

“If you think we can’t hurt you boys anymore…” Peter says as he lets his hand roughly grab the back of Dean’s neck, forcing his head down to stare at Sam who is unhappily lapping at his erection.

 

“… Think again!” Peter hisses. Dean struggles to focus his eyes, struggles to see through the layer of tears that has emerged. The mind-numbing and way too good feeling of his brother expertly swallowing him doesn’t help either – it only makes everything lightly sail.

 

“F-Fuck…” Dean whispers, barely audible. And he groans when Cedric’s hand resting on his brother’s head forces his length to go deeper inside the warm, inviting mouth, pushing Sam down on him harder. Dean lets his head fall back into Peter’s hand, trying not to feel his brother choking on him. Trying not to think about it. Trying to block it out. But he can’t seem to get his mind to properly distance itself from what’s happening. Instead he’s trapped here with all of these feelings ricocheting through his body and leaving him to let out small, panting noises every time Sam takes him into his mouth. Oh, god. This can’t be happening. But it is. He is fucking his little brother’s mouth. And somehow it seems like his body likes it. Dean’s stomach churns and now he actually misses the rope gagging him, helping to strangle and muffle his moans. He accidently rams his cock further inside Sam’s mouth when Cedric twists the fingers buried in his hole, forcing a choked moan to push past the older Winchester’s firmly grit teeth. He can feel Peter’s body thrusting into his hand in a precise and steady rhythm behind the chair, making it rock ever so slightly with each buck of his hips. He is unrushed. Unhurried. Just enjoying the feeling of Dean’s grip around his half-hard cock.

 

“Sammy, you’ve been so patient…” Winston says and snaps his hips forward again, making the young Winchester feel so utterly stuffed that he is certain he is going to burst open.

 

“A little too patient," Lucas answers, tucking his flaccid dick back into his pants. Sam scrunches up his face, trying hard to keep his teeth apart. He doesn’t want to hurt his brother, but he can taste the pre-cum leaking onto his tongue, and he tries desperately to ignore it, but the mere thought of it has his throat tightening and fighting against the urge to vomit. Focusing he fights to keep his aching jaws wide open, fights to avoid scraping his teeth against the sensitive flesh of his brother’s cock. 

 

Beside him Lucas is moving around slowly, and Sam shudders nervously when the demon places his hand on his skin, lightly tracing his palm down the young hunter’s shoulder, past his shoulder blade, along his spine and on to his hip. As Winston buries his cock in Sam once more, the squelchy noise from the two previous loads in there seems to amuse the demons, and the room fills with chuckling. Seeping down Sam’s inner thighs the slick feels sticky and vile against his skin as it slowly cools.

 

“So good,” Lucas praises as his hand slides under Sam’s body to wrap around his semi-interested cock, giving the throbbing appendage some experimental strokes. Instantly Sam pulls off of Dean with a gasp and a whispered curse word, shivering as new sensations zap through his body from the unexpected touch. But all too quickly Cedric barks at him to fill his mouth again, his voice loud and demanding and bouncing off the walls. At the same time Lucas’ hand has turned into a blur on Sam’s cock, and the feeling is making the young hunter dizzy, making his mind spin and flick in and out of being aware of his surroundings and being only semi-conscious. But although Sam struggles not to collapse from exhaustion he eventually finds the strength to open his sore mouth and take Dean back in, following orders. Even with both eyes tightly closed. But there are still moments in between where Sam forgets what he’s there to do. When he pauses and forgets to take in Dean’s length, getting caught up in all of the feelings overriding his brain. But he is quickly reminded, and he moans around his big brother’s cock, sending vibrations through the tender flesh and in turn driving the older Winchester wild. Not that Dean would ever admit it. Or even acknowledge it. 

 

“C’mon, Sammy! I’ve been doin’ all the work back here… It’s about time for you to do somethin’...!” Winston suddenly complains in a frustrated huff as he delivers a slap to Sam’s hip.

 

“Yeah, c’mon Sam! Work that pretty ass and fuck yourself on that big cock!" Cedric spits at him - and with very little thought Sam complies. Shoving his face into his brother’s lap he forces his body forwards in the process, sliding his dick further into Lucas’ hand. He feels the guiding hand on his hip tighten as he then pushes his ass back against Winston, getting rewarded with a throaty groan.

 

“Yeah, good boy…  Fuck my hand, that's it," Lucas says breathlessly, amazement clear in his voice as Sam pushes his hips forwards and back a second and a third time. Finding a bearable pace he rocks back and forth, back and forth with Winston occasionally slapping his rear.

 

“Thatta boy, Sammy, a little fast- er…! Oh yeah, you were made for this, you little slut!” Winston grunts when the young hunter speeds up as instructed almost before the order has left the demon’s lips. 

 

Sam can feel his mind slip away in small glitches, can feel a solid blackness fill his vision – but only for a split second at a time before he’s fully conscious again. His entire body is hurting and tingling and aching at the same time, lactic acid stinging in every fatigued muscle as he rocks back and forth and impales himself in both ends. He knows that he can’t take much more. He can’t keep going like this. His heart is galloping like crazy in his chest, feeling like it is threatening to give out at any moment. And he can’t even tell exactly what he is feeling anymore, can’t tell if he is aroused or just hurt or both or something else entirely. But the hand eagerly tugging on his dick leaves him snapping for air as an unwelcome heat pools in his groin.

 

“You like that, huh?” Cedric says, pushing the two fingers inside of Dean in a bit deeper. He watches in fascination as the older Winchester squirms helplessly, a grunt leaving his lips before he has the chance to suppress it.

 

“G-Go to hell…!” Dean snaps under his breath. A discontent huff instantly escapes Cedric.

 

“Nah. Been there, done that. But, you know… I thought we agreed that Sammy didn’t need any more lessons? Yet still here you are, talking back to me…” Cedric says, an eerie and ominous tone slipping into his voice. His words hit Dean like a bucket of ice cold water, and instantly he shakes his head, panic setting in. Cursing himself in his mind he squirms desperately, but it only helps to drive Cedric’s fingers in deeper, making the older Winchester gasp for air and his cock twitch when his prostate is struck yet again.

 

“Oh, Sammy…?” Cedric then says in an inquisitive tone of voice and turns his head to look at the young hunter helplessly rocking back and forth on his knees.

 

“No!! No, don’t…! Dean gasps, trying to catch Cedric’s attention. But the demon ignores him and tilts his head a little, glaring at Sam with sparkling, onyx eyes.

 

“Why don't you tell Dean just how much you like his cock?” Cedric then says, a wicked smile spreading on his lips.

 

 

              


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

 

Dean lets out a strangled sound as Cedric twists his fingers around inside of him, nudging the treacherous bundle of nerves hidden there. Again his cock twitches in response, pulsing and throbbing in Sam’s mouth, and Dean wishes and prays that he could just pass out. But he remains painfully present and aware. Stuck. Gritting his teeth he can’t help but look down at his brother, and the sight has his heart doing a painful somersault in his chest. Sam’s long and strong body suddenly looks so fragile and vulnerable as he is rocked back and forth between Dean and Winston, trembling hands clasped on to Dean’s thighs and knees planted on the dirty and hard concrete floor. His muscles flex and twitch involuntarily under the sweaty, tanned skin and bruises and lacerations cover it in different patterns all over. The sounds his body is making has Dean’s stomach churning. They are so wet and filthy, and the occasional groans escaping his little brother make his blood run cold. But at the same time it feels like all of this somehow fuels the little fire in his groin, making his dick grow harder by the minute. The overload of sensation and the panic creeping into his mind have Dean desperately trying to convince himself that he is not aroused. That his dick is not bouncing eagerly against Sam’s tongue. But he fails miserably. And his dick only grows harder, aching with need and slowly starting seek out more friction of its own accord. Fresh tears of shame and self-loathing prickle in Dean’s eyes.

 

“Go ahead, Sammy. Tell your brother how much you like his cock,” Cedric orders again, now pushing a third finger against Dean’s entrance. Another choked sound spills from Dean’s mouth.

 

“No, no…! No! Just… Please, don’t…!” Dean hears himself say, but it’s like he doesn’t even comprehend his own words. They just turn into gibberish, his pulse roaring loudly in his ears when Cedric pushes in the extra finger and wiggles all three digits around, bumping against his prostate relentlessly.

 

“Do it now, Sammy!” Cedric barks, feeling how Dean’s hole hugs his fingers tight as he squirms in the chair. Carefully Sam lets his brother’s cock slip out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’, wincing in pain when he tests out if he can even close his mouth. His jaw feels so sore and almost as if it’s locked in an open position.

 

“Yeah, tell him,” Winston says from behind the young hunter, keeping up a fast and unforgiving rhythm as he slams himself into him tirelessly. Nervously Sam licks his cracked bottom lip, trying to loosen up his aching mouth and jaw. His entire world is sailing.

 

“I… I…” he starts, but he trails off when Lucas’ hand stroke shim a little harder, tugging at his hard cock. Snapping for air Sam clutches Dean’s thighs harder, trying to hold himself up as his body is rocked by too much sensation. Too much is happening, and it feels like he can’t contain it.

 

“Look at him!” Winston adds, letting a flat hand strike Sam’s ass with a loud smack. Gasping Sam suppresses a sob trying to make its way out of his bruised mouth, and he can feel how his bottom lip is starting to quiver. But still he convinces himself to slowly lift his glance. Heaving for air and trying not to give in to the urge telling him to just let himself collapse, Sam finally looks up at his brother. The expression on Dean’s face is alien and almost unrecognizable. A mix of everything and something Sam has never seen before, and both of their breaths hitch when they lock in eye contact.

 

“Dea—... I’m sorry—" Sam says, but his words are choked off by a rough thrust behind him when Winston buries his cock to the hilt, bucking his hips in little spurts and making Sam gasp.

 

“That's not what he told you to say. Try again!” Winston hisses in Sam's ear, and Dean is quick to try to comfort his shivering brother below him.

 

“Hey-hey, it’s okay, not your fau—" he begins, but Peter is quick to clamp one hand over his mouth while the other rakes through his hair, lightly tugging and keeping Dean painfully aware that this is completely out of his control. The demon then whispers for Dean to just watch and listen while methodically pushing his abnormally big cock into Dean’s twitching hand.

 

”You feel so good," Peter groans, thrusting a bit harder. As the veiny flesh forcefully slides into his hand and causes extra friction, Dean panics and quickly opens his hand into an open palm - but as soon as he does, Peter tightens his grip on Dean’s hair and pushes his chin down to his chest.

 

“Hey! Take a good look and remember why that's _not_ in your best interest!” Peter hisses. The sight of Sam is more than enough for Dean to turn his palm back into a fist for the demon to fuck. Especially when Winston pulls his cock out of his brother, and Sam almost topples over. His hands on Dean’s thighs are the only thing that prevents him from falling down on the dusty floor below.

 

“Don’t go thinkin’ I’m done with you yet!” Winston snarls as he strokes his cock a couple of times, his voice stern and steady. He doesn’t at all sound like he’s been chasing an orgasm for the past fifteen minutes.

 

“Lucas, if that pretty boy blows his load I’m gonna be very disappointed. You hear me?” he says flatly.

 

“Loud and clear,” Lucas smiles and tightens his grip around Sam, continuing to jerk him off lazily. Only now he grabs the base of his cock tight, giving the hunter one strong, final stroke before letting his cock bounce free.

 

“Ugh!” Sam pants, uncomfortable, when his cock throbs and his balls tighten, wanting to empty themselves. Winston stands beside him, running his fingers lightly over his sweaty skin. Sam’s body is still bent over, knees on the cement and hands gripping Dean’s thighs and holding on to his big brother for dear life. Because, even though this could be the thing that breaks them – which he really doesn’t want to think about - he just really needs Dean right now. Sam flinches a little by the thought, his head dropping down as he just stares at the wooden chair seat between Dean’s legs. His brother’s cock is not fully visible from this angle, and panting Sam screws his watery eyes shut. Trying to be anywhere else but here.

 

Then he feels Winston’s hand starting to card through his hair again. And Sam has felt this before - this is the part where Winston shoves him unexpectedly. Well, it would be. But this time he knows what’s coming. Stifling a sniffle Sam cringes at the smell of sex, sweat and blood hanging heavily in the air while Winston’s hand quickly becomes heavier on his head and forces it further into Dean's lap, positioning him like some sort of vulgar puppet. His brother’s cock looks incredibly large as it stands tall, demanding attention. Sam can still taste him on his tongue, and for the first time it doesn't instantly leave him feeling repulsed. Instead he just feels strangely sluggish, almost as if he is somehow starting to grow accustomed to this. 

 

“Sam, don’t make Peter repeat himself,” Winston says, and the demons all chuckle around him. Sam realizes that he almost completely forgot about Peter’s order, and he shivers. He can almost see that smug smile spreading on Winston’s face even though he can’t actually see him right now. The black-eyed man is standing outside his field of vision, but that face and wicked smile of his are etched into his mind all too clearly.

 

Suppressing a sob Sam looks up at his brother, not daring to disobey. Without even registering it he searches Dean’s eyes for something - anything - that might somehow comfort him, might somehow help him. But even the familiarity of those warm, green eyes seems to be overpowered by the pain and fear shining in them, and Sam can’t seem to see beyond that right now. He looks so hurt. Sam just wants to hug him, to plead for his forgiveness. He doesn’t want to do this to him. How can he possibly? Another sob tries to make its way out, but he swallows it down. There’s no avoiding this. 

 

As he looks up he can see his brother swallow hard and shift in the seat a little. Little does he know that Dean forgives him. He hasn’t said anything yet, but he already does. Because Sam really has no choice here – and his older brother knows this, and he accepts that he has to do what he is told. Dean sucks in half a breath through Peter’s hand still clamped over his mouth and forces himself to look down at his little brother between his legs. He keeps his eyes open, even though he doesn’t really want to. He does it because the demons want him to. And Sam has suffered enough. Dean doesn’t want to contribute anymore to his pain than he already has. He has suffered far too much already.

 

“Please,” Sam sobs, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks.

 

“Please, I want your cock…” he says lowly. Peter groans from behind Dean and the other two laugh quietly in the background. But Winston, he just stands there with his hand still gripping Sam’s hair tight, smiling down at the young man. Clearly he has noticed that the hunter’s voice is quiet and monotone. Impersonal. Like a recorded message.

 

“Please, Dean, I want—”

 

“C’mon, Sammy! Make me believe you want it, or maybe Dean here can beg for your lips to work him over?” Winston says, onyx eyes glistening. And Sam feels lost. But he knows that he needs to give them something, needs to get the last of these sick bastards off, so he and Dean can get this over with and get the hell out of here.

 

Winston then pulls at his hair, lifting Sam’s head a little higher to hover just above Dean’s dick. Sam knows what he wants. Carefully he looks up at his brother, dilated puppy eyes staring at him. And he decides to put a little more emotion behind his words, knowing exactly what these twisted demons want.

 

“Oh, god, I- I love… I love your cock in my m-mouth,” he then says. And he tries not to stutter. He really tries.

 

“I love the t-taste of your cock leaking cum on my tongue, I… I…“ Sam continues frantically, looking down at Dean’s balls tightening and drawing up to the base of his cock. But he also sees Cedric's three long digits disappearing underneath Dean’s sack.

 

“Say it…” Winston coaxes, a little out of breath.

 

“I wan— I want you to cum… In me, in my mouth… I want to taste you…” Sam says, trying not to let his voice tremble and crack. Winston apparently gives Lucas a cue, because his hand snakes over Sam’s belly and down his twitching cock, giving him some slow, hard strokes which make him jerk.

 

“Keep going, Sammy," Winston says. Drawing in a ragged breath Sam continues to beg his brother for his cock mindlessly. At the same time Lucas picks up his pace, working his hand expertly over Sam’s length and making his pleas come out more and more desperate.

 

“Ah...! Dean, fuck- I want your load, I want t-to make you cum- ah! Ugh! Please, please shoot your load and m-make me gag on your fucki- oh! God! Your fucking cock...!” he stutters, breath hitching.

 

“Keep going, Sam… and Dean-o, do you have an appropriate answer for your brother?” Winston asks and stalks back around Sam to lift him up a little, pulling him back into position and lining himself up once again.

 

As Peter lifts his hand from his mouth Dean tries to shake him off, glaring and growling incoherently at Winston. He wants to scream at him, he wants to tell him to go back downstairs to rot for all of eternity. But then his glance drops back down to Sam who is still begging more and more frantically, his voice booming with urgency. Dean can almost hear him pleading him not to give them any more reasons to hurt him.

 

“I- I- I want to taste you, ah! S-Suck ev-every drop from your -ugh- cock, wan- need you filling me up. Please, Dean…!” he whimpers breathlessly. Winston is slowly circling Sam’s hole and asks him if he wants more cock.

 

“Oh- fuck! Ugh!” Sam bursts out as his hips buck, thrusting his cock into Lucas’ hand, and his head dips to put Dean back into his mouth. But just as his lips touch the tip of Dean’s cock, Winston pulls him back and away from his brother.

 

“Not so quick! You want it, Sammy?” Winston teases as he slowly pushes the head of his throbbing dick against Sam’s clenched ring of muscle.

 

“You want to be filled with big brother’s cock?”

 

“Yes! Yes! Ah!” Sam whines helplessly, mind spinning.

 

“Ask him again to give you his cock,” Winston demands. Sam whimpers as the demon pushes himself inside of him inch by agonizing inch.

 

“Please, Dean, I need you to fill me! Please! Give me your cock! Let me- make me choke on it…!” Sam begs, desperation seeping into his voice.

 

Peter is grunting now, thrusting his dick into Dean’s fist. Clearly the sight of the younger brother is proving to be a little much for the otherwise calm demon. Winston has bottomed out and is slowly dragging his cock back out, and Sam knows that he will soon be thrusting relentlessly and probably force him to come. There’s no way he can hold out, not with Lucas stroking so goddamn mercilessly over his aching dick.

 

“Dean?” Winston warns as he pulls his cock out of Sam, only to let it slowly sink right back in. And he starts to pick up his pace, working his way in a little quicker and gradually thrusting faster and faster. Dean shakes his head, but he knows there is no escaping this.

 

“C…. C-Come get it… Sam... “ he manages to say.

 

“Oh! Yes!” Winston bursts out as he slams home inside of Sam, making the young hunter wince. Growling he tells them both to continue, obviously enjoying the dirty talk.

 

”Keep going, boys! I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Keep going!”

 

“Com- here, Sam. C-C-Come on… Let me shov- I’m gonna give you somethin’ to choke on…” Dean says, mutters the words helplessly, but making sure that they are at least audible.

 

“I want you, Dean, please! Ah! Oh, God...! Oh, God! Dean! I’m gonna—" Sam whines, feeling his back arching. But his body spasms angrily when Lucas lets his hand fall off the tip of his dick, forcing Sam to twitch and shake and pray that he just blows. Pray that he doesn’t have to keep chasing this orgasm. Not after all of this. He can’t keep going. He pants uncontrollably, trying to pull out of Winston's grip as he lets out a loud and hoarse cry. It sounds kind of animalistic, and he shakes with fatigue and desperation.

 

“Again, Sam…” Winston’s voice orders, flat and proud. Because the young hunter is finally starting to sound as desperate as the demon wants him to be.

 

“Please…!” Sam gasps, choking on a groan as Winston brushes against his prostate again, angling his hips a little differently to rip those delicious sounds from the hunter’s throat.

 

“Dean! Please, I-I want-I want…!” Sam pleads  feverishly as he feels the remnants of his still functioning mind start to slip away. Everything is sailing, and his heart is hammering so hard and fast in his chest that he is certain it’s going to give out. But somehow he doesn’t really care. All he can feel is searing heat burning in his groin, his dick, his abdomen, his loins and everywhere.

 

“P-Please fuck my mouth! Please, Dean, I—“ he begs, but he cuts himself off in the middle of his flow of words when he suddenly finds himself dipping his head down to close his lips around his brother’s dick. Dean jumps in his seat, a groan escaping him when Sam’s wet mouth engulfs him and starts to suck hungrily on him. Instantly the demons surrounding them start grinning, victorious and with superior smirks plastered on their faces.

 

“Ah-ah!” Winston scolds and pulls at Sam, forcing the young hunter to let Dean’s cock slip out of his mouth. A frustrated whine escapes Sam, and he finds himself suddenly wondering if he has completely lost his mind. What did he just do?

 

“Needy, huh? Well, you’re not done beggin’, boy!” Winston says, slamming himself into Sam while giving Lucas a short nod. Sam doesn’t see it, but he feels it instantly. Lucas’ warm hand, slick with pre-cum, closes around his dick and starts to slowly tug on it, sending a new surge of want through him. A guttural noise spills from Sam’s mouth as he helplessly bucks his hips, seeking more friction.

 

“Please…!! I-I want your cock! Fuck me!” Sam cries, mind gone in a swirly haze of need. Above him Dean’s eyes are wide as he watches his brother as instructed, baffled and confused and angry and hurt and wanton. A volatile mix of emotions that feels like it is going to knock the wind right out of him. Peter is still fucking his hand, clearly egged on by the sight of Sam coming undone before his very eyes.

 

“Dean!! Dean, please! Give me your fucking cock!!” Sam yells, his desperate voice bouncing off the walls and echoing in the room. Lucas’ hand is a blur on his cock now, and Sam can feel nothing but want, feeling like it’s burning him alive. Consuming him completely. And as Winston strikes his prostate again the very last bit of sensibility left in his head seems to slip away from him, leaving him to shudder and whimper and beg, jumbled up words stumbling on each other on their way out of his mouth at a frenzied speed.

 

“That’s so fucking hot, Sammy…!” Lucas groans, pumping his hand faster. Sam is bucking, thrusting into the closed fist under him while Winston keeps plunging in and out of his ass, striking that magical, soft spot inside of him over and over and short-circuiting his mind. A litany of pleas flow uninhibitedly from Sam as he keeps begging, mind gone. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying or if it is even coherent anymore, but he can’t stop.

 

“Shit!!” Winston groans, his breathing growing labored as he listens to the young hunter’s desperate begging. And he keeps slamming himself against Sam relentlessly, watching as he shudders and even pushes back against him to drive his cock in deeper.

 

“Begs so good, doesn’t he? You like that, don’t you?” Peter whispers in Dean’s ear, still slowly fucking his hand. Dean can feel how pre-cum is coating his entire palm, making the demon thrust easily in and out of it with slippery sounds. But what Dean feels the most is his own throbbing dick, and he hates himself for it. It’s standing red and angry and oozing pre-cum, twitching in the stale air of the room as Cedric drives his three thick fingers deeper and deeper into him.

 

“Mmffgh!” Dean bursts out through gritted teeth, unable to form any words. Instead his mind is spinning faster and faster by the second when Cedric crooks his fingers, bumping them against his prostate with scary precision. Instantly he can feel his balls tighten more, leaving him panting and writhing. And some part of him wants Sam to close his lips around him again. His stomach churns, but the gut wrenching feeling of his own betrayal is somehow lost in the flames of the heat pooling way too fast and way too intensely in his groin.                         

                     

“Fuck…!” Dean groans, drops of sweat running down his forehead to drip from the tip of his nose as he looks down at Sam. His younger brother looks completely lost. Those usually mellow puppy dog eyes are impossibly hazy, pupils blown with lust and gaze so hungry that it makes Dean’s breath hitch. Sam is still begging, louder by the minute and he seems to be trying to reach Dean’s dick with his mouth. 

 

“Good boy! Ah, fuck! You can have your treat now, Sammy…” Winston groans as he pistons his hips, ramming himself into the tight heat. He then plants his hands on Sam’s waist, pushing him forwards a bit.

 

“Make your brother choke on that cock, Dean-o!” Winston grunts, seemingly satisfied with their performance so far. The demon is trembling, his jet black eyes glued to Sam as he almost scrambles forwards and in between his brother’s legs. Within a split second Sam latches on to Dean, taking him into his mouth with a wet, sucking sound. A throaty moan escapes the older Winchester when he feels Sam’s lips close around him, his vision suddenly sparkling with small, white dots when the fingers inside him nudge the bundle of nerves again at the same time.

 

“Fuck, Sam…!” Dean groans, lips parting in a gasp. And he finds himself bucking his hips, ramming his dick down his brother’s throat as he seeks out more friction. But Sam doesn’t even cough or gag like he did earlier. Instead he swallows Dean down, his throat bulging and working around the hard length and saliva dribbling from the corners of his mouth.

 

“Yes!!” Winston growls, tensing up a little as he keeps watching. Briefly his glance wanders to Lucas, and instantly his fellow demon starts to stroke Sam harder. As if on cue the young hunter lets out a loud moan, but it is muffled around Dean’s cock and just turns into a guttural noise.

 

“You gonna cum, Sammy?” Winston asks, pounding into the hunter eagerly. The sound of skin slapping against skin is incredibly loud in the small room, and Sam whines around his brother’s cock as his body is rocked back and forth.

 

“Huh? You gonna cum with your brother’s cock in your mouth?” Winston says, striking Sam’s prostate once more and making the hunter’s body jerk violently underneath him. And this time Sam begins to shake, his body arching and his toes curling.

 

“That’s it! Cum for us, you fucking slut!” Winston grunts, nodding at Lucas. Sweaty and excited the demon then tightens his hand around Sam’s twitching cock, tugging and pulling at it and smearing pre-cum down its length, coating it in slick. The sensation has Sam’s eyes roll back in his head – and with a choked sound he hits the point of no return, his mind vanishing completely in a flash of white. He feels himself arch, every muscle in his back flexing involuntarily and his cock growing impossibly hard in Lucas’ hand. And finally he comes, the orgasm ripping through him like a sudden whirlwind of mind-blowing want and need. It feels like some sort of mental white-out, and he can feel nothing but the intense fire engulfing his groin. He cries out, but keeps sucking desperately on Dean’s cock at the same time, his screams muffled by the veiny flesh. It is all too much, but not enough. Impaling himself in both ends Sam thrashes back and forth between the two hard bodies, unable to even fully comprehend what is happening to him other than him wanting more. More. More of everything. And then he feels how cum shoots from his cock in long ropes, running down over Lucas’ hand as he keeps stroking him mercilessly. Holding his breath Sam jerks and stutters, his body tensed up and cramping. And everything feels amazing.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

Dean hasn’t taken his eyes off his brother for a second, he doesn’t dare. Instead he keeps watching as instructed, wide-eyed and heaving for air as Sam comes undone in front of him. With his head bowed down drops of Dean’s sweat continue to drip from his face only to land on the trembling body below him, making the bruised skin glisten in the dim light in various shades of red and purple. Dean takes a deep breath, closing his eyes while his brother’s lips keep sliding down his length in a warm, wet motion - again and again and again. He involuntarily jerks when Sam’s lips tighten a bit and his tongue laps at the sensitive flesh right under the spongy head of his cock. And right now both Winchesters share a strange feeling of both fearing and hoping that Sam might accidentally let Dean slip out. The ambivalence is horrific, leaving them both to suddenly question their sanity.

 

The older Winchester’s eyes widen a bit more when Winston speaks to his brother, filthy words spewing from his mouth. And Dean can barely hold himself back from screaming at the demonic bastard, wanting so badly to just shout one threat after the other at him, promising him a painful death. But he very well knows that he can’t. And the sight of Sam between his legs like this, abused and spent, has his mind reeling. He catches a glimpse of white splatters dripping onto the floor and Lucas’ hand – bitter proof of an orgasm he knows that his little brother does not want. It feels like Dean’s guts turn themselves inside out to even think about it.

 

Sam is violently spasming between Winston and himself now, a few last drops of cum drooling from his dick as he finally starts to come down from his high. And even Dean knows that any minute now he might pass out – because it is obvious that this is simply too much for him to take. But the only thing Dean can do is watch on helplessly. Sam’s fingernails are starting to draw blood on his thighs, holding onto him for comfort, for support and for the mock promise that everything after this is going to be okay. That after this they will heal.

 

Letting out a strangled moan Sam screws his eyes shut, his body forcibly being rocked back and forth in his brother’s lap as Winston continues to thrust in and out of him with vicious bucks of his hips. And every time he does, Sam swallows the cock in his throat down just a little bit deeper. Dean grits his teeth harder when his little brother fails to hold back a loud groan, the vibration tickling his cock dangerously and threatening him that he might no longer be able to prevent that horrible heat in his groin from building, might not be able to keep an orgasm at bay. Still he barely has enough brain power left to admit to himself that his body definitely thinks that this feels good. So good that he can't comprehend that it’s Sam down there making him feel this way. Maybe if it wasn’t Sam, it would have felt absolutely amazing. But it _is_ Sam. It _is_ his brother with his lips wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, sucking him in and gagging around him as he tries to swallow him down.

 

“You feel so fucking good, Sam!" Winston shouts in between thrusts, and Sam starts to go limp in the demon’s hold, his bones feeling like they are liquefying into some sort of jelly.

 

“He looks a real treat,” Peter laughs, and Dean’s mind is starting to spin with too much of everything. Hatred, arousal and fear and way too many other emotions to count or even keep track of. Looking down at Sam he can’t help but feel utterly helpless as he watches his brother fight to keep himself just somewhat steady. Because even though Sam is going limper by the minute, completely exhausted and spent, he isn’t being given any sort of break. No one is letting him go, no one is letting him rest for just a second. And it’s wearing on him.

 

Winston is picking up his speed behind Sam, slamming into the young hunter without pausing, slick sounds reverberating in the room. As the demon now chases his own orgasm, he announces to the room how damn close he feels, voice hoarse and loud and piercing. Dean automatically shivers by his words. And he can’t help but keep reminding himself that all of this is his own doing. It’s his fault. He deserves to feel this pain rooted deep in his gut.

 

“Got any more, Sammy?” Lucas asks while stroking the young Winchester with slow and lazy tugs, draining the last small droplets of cum from his overworked cock. Sam flinches a little and whispers a muffled ‘no’ around Dean’s dick, shuddering. His cock is starting to swell with oversensitivity and the sensations border on painful when Lucas pinches his cockhead to draw out one more drop of sticky white. The young hunter’s grip is mean and continues to break skin on Dean’s legs when nobody cuts him just the slightest bit of slack. It is too much, too intense and too scary for him to handle. And as Lucas’ hand strokes down the length of his cock again only to slide back up to squeeze any remaining semen out of him, Sam starts to internally beg for his mind to just shut down. He hears his own voice growl, mouth stuffed with his brother’s twitching, hard dick, but the sound seems so distant and strangely alien to him.

 

“Good fucking cockslut,” Cedric says, joining his friends in their mocking praise of the trembling Winchester by their feet. As Sam swallows down his brother again he can’t help but to groan in disapproval, pain, fear and so much more that he doesn’t even recognize anymore. Right away the vibrations from his vocal chords can be felt around Dean’s dick, and it instantly adds more fuel to a fire Dean wishes he could extinguish immediately. His eyes are trying to roll back in his head, but with just enough brain capacity left to remind him that it’s his brother sucking him off, he manages to stop himself from surrendering to the moment. At least that’s what he thinks.

 

Suddenly a spasm-like shudder zaps through his body, and the older Winchester nearly chokes on a moan trying to spill from his mouth. All his mind is capable of in that moment is to just repeat the word ‘no’ over and over again, the single word looping inside his head like some sort of mantra. This can’t be happening. Trembling he swears that he’s going to rip out all of his nerve endings so he will never have to feel again. He cannot fathom what is happening, but his back is arching and his hips are jerking up into Sam’s warm, tight mouth. ‘No’, his mind screams. As he wills his body to relax back into the chair, the surrounding demons spitefully ask how close he is - each one of them seems to have something to say, and the excitement in their voices is clear and evident.

 

“You gonna cum down his throat?"

 

“Gonna blow your load into your brother, huh, Dean-o?"

 

“Make Sammy swallow it, take that fucking cock!”

 

“Yeah, you like that, huh? C’mon!”

 

Dean’s mind is a swirl. He doesn’t know who’s saying what. He can only hear the demon voices echo and jump off the walls around him, intensifying and growing even louder. He feels dizzy when a spasm rips through him a second time, and this time he can’t hold back a grunt. And he knows this feeling. Knows it all too well. And it shouldn’t be his brother who is inducing it. It can’t be. But Sam then takes his cock all the way in, burying his nose in the pubes at its base. Fucking him with his throat, Sam clenches and swallows around the rigid flesh.

 

“F-Fuck… S… S-Stop...” Dean says, but the words coming out of him aren’t completely true. He knows himself far too well to know that he didn’t mean it. Not really. He is too far gone in the sensations rippling through his body, devouring his mind in the process. His brother is going to make him come and the thought is horrific, but the truth is that Sam’s mouth feels like magic as he slurps his length down again. And again and—

 

“F-Fu… Nnng… S-Stop! Please…” Dean pleads under his breath. His voice sounds beyond desperate, and only one demon seems to hear his quiet cry. Behind him Peter’s voice is low as he whispers filthy words, small puffs of hot air hitting the shell of Dean's ear when a tongue laps on the lobe. Cedric’s fingers are circling Dean’s prostate at the same time, nudging him and teasing him in just the right spot - the spot that has Dean pushing his hips up as far as the ropes holding him will allow. His feet scuff against the cement floor and his hands shuffle, trying to hold on to the chair as his mind is trying to short-circuit from the overstimulation.

 

“You like that?” Peter whispers in his ear. Dean fights the urge to moan, but fails. God, he wishes it didn’t feel this good.

 

”You like Sam sucking your big cock? You gonna feed him? Gonna give Sammy a treat?”

 

“S-Sam??” Dean croaks, his entire body tensed up in an attempt not to give in to the heat building in his groin and in his mind and everywhere. But the heat seems to be turning into fire, spreading slowly but surely. He can feel it just building and building inside of him, burning. Feverishly he tells himself that he has to resist. No matter how tempting it feels to give in. And it is very tempting. He doesn’t remember the last time he orgasmed. Or maybe he does. But this is different. It’s wrong. So wrong.

 

“So open for me, Dean-o. I bet you could take some more…” Cedric comments as he licks up Dean’s hip and over Sam’s blood-stained fingers.

 

“It’d be a shame not to test drive both of ya…” he says, and every demon in the room begins to laugh. And that laughter… That laughter has Dean’s mind swimming again, making his stomach churn. But at the same time the heat is growing stronger in his groin.

 

“Aah!” he gasps, his head lolling back. And he fights bitterly against the part of him that is screaming out how good everything feels right now. He fights as hard as he can, desperately trying to will that treacherous heat in his groin to disappear. But he is losing the battle.

 

“There he is! Come on, boy! Give Sammy your load!!” the demons all laugh.

 

“Ugh! Nngh! No! No…!” Dean pants, eyes wide as his body tenses. Peter’s hand pulls his head back and trails a finger over his chest, the touch as light as a feather.

 

“S-Stop! Oh, god, stop!” Dean groans.

 

“C’mon, blow your load,” Peter says and places his lips on Dean’s neck to nibble and suck on it, quickly forming a light purple bruise.

 

“Feels so good, doesn’t he?” Peter asks in Dean’s ear, panting as he pulls back a little. Cedric pulls his three digits out only to force them back inside, wiggling and reaching for that special place - and white spots instantly explode in Dean’s vision. He moans out louder, mindless pleas falling from his mouth as he begs for them to stop.

 

“Gonna tell us to go to Hell again, Dean?” Peter moans into his ear and pants against it, making the older Winchester’s head loll to the side.

 

“Nn-Oh, fuck! Plea-Please…!” he gasps as Sam takes him all the way in once more. Cedric’s fingers are working feverishly to massage his prostate, probing and pushing and pressing. He then pulls the three digits out and suddenly four are pushed back in, the longest digit quickly nudging right at the little bundle of nerves.

 

“C’mon, Dean. Time to feed your brother. Let it go…!” Peter whispers against the shell of his air. And finally Dean can’t hold out any longer. The heat in his groin seems to explode, engulfing him completely. White stars flash before his eyes as he loses the fight, his body tensing up and his eyes rolling back. His hips are involuntarily moving up and down jerkily, ramming his dick into the warm wetness above his groin. As hot spurts of cum fill Sam’s mouth, Dean shakes violently around the fingers wiggling inside of him, clenches around them as his body bucks desperately. So much is happening all at once, there’s too much stimulation - and he grunts as semen starts to dribble out of Sam’s mouth, unable to contain it all. Peter sucks a second bruise next to the first one he made, and as they drag the orgasm from him Dean swears for a moment that the feeling isn’t going to end.

 

“Swallow it, Sammy!” Winston orders as he thrusts inside the young Winchester, leaning over his bent body. The demon then quickly places his hand under Sam’s chin and pulls him back to sit on his lap, forcing his mouth shut.

 

“We went to a lot of trouble to feed you, so you better fucking swallow it!" Winston barks, his balls tightening and drawing up as he fucks into Sam, bouncing the young man up and down on his dick.

 

“Swallow that cum!” Lucas chimes in as he reaches up and pinches Sam’s nose shut, forcing his throat to close and make a panicked, swallowing motion.

 

“Yeah, that’s it… There you go…" Lucas sings as he wipes his cum-covered fingers over the young hunter’s lips. Sam can taste himself on the long digits now invading his sore mouth, bitterness coating every inch of it.

 

“Good boy, Dean-o,” Peter hums, his fingers carding through Dean’s short strands as he massages his scalp in what almost feels like soothing circles.

 

“Sammy looked like he enjoyed that…! What a good, little cum slut, huh? You served him a wonderful treat,” Peter says. Cedric is now slipping his fingers free from Dean’s loosened hole, making him feel empty and aching. The older WInchester can’t help but whimper at this sudden emptiness, a strange feeling that is totally alien to him. None of the demons seem to notice though, because their attention is directed straight back to Sam who has now gone limp in their grasp. But Winston continues to viciously fuck into him, only two feet from where Dean is tied down to the chair, immobilized and trembling and sweaty and gasping. And forced to watch. Winston yells at Sam to clench his hole and slaps him again - but Sam is far too spent to comply.

 

“I’ll make him fucking clench, boss," Cedric's voice threatens as he wipes his hands on his neat dress pants. He then gets down on his knees in front of the hunter.

 

“N-No!” Sam cries, but his thin voice is barely audible. And the demon is quick to take him into his mouth, sucking on him feverishly.

 

“Uh! Ugh! N-No!” Sam rasps and spits the remaining semen in his mouth down at Cedric in the poorest, weakest attempt to push him away.

 

“Oh! Gonna spit, are we!? Fuckin’ stay there, Sam!” Winston snaps and hooks a leg around Sam’s to keep his cock buried as he yanks his head back by the hair.

 

“Ungrateful, little prick!” he hisses. His other hand forces Sam’s jaw open, fingertips digging into the fatigued muscles.

 

 “Whadd’ya say, Cedric?”

 

“I say…”Cedric says speculatively as he just stands there and glares at the young hunter for a considerable amount of time. Seconds tick by slower and slower while his jet black eyes stare straight into Sam’s hazel ones, piercing him to the bone.

 

“I say let the punishment fit the crime…” Cedric finally says and grabs Sam’s head, tilting it backwards with a firm tug. He then spits into his open mouth, ropes of saliva landing on his tongue.

 

Looking on from his restrained position in the chair Dean can’t tell if Winston is still ramming his dick into his brother or if Sam is just squirming a lot. But either way it hurts to watch. It hurts a lot. And he can’t believe what he has just done, what has just happened. He nearly flinches when Cedric spits into Sam's mouth again. And again. Then a couple of times more before driving his tongue past the cracked lips in a greedy kiss.

 

“You're lucky you taste so fucking good,” Cedric moans into Sam’s mouth, finally letting him breathe again. Lucas is standing up now, making his way over as well just as Cedric forces his fingers inside of Sam’s mouth. Instantly the young hunter starts to heave at the smell and vile taste - because he knows where those fingers have been.

 

“Gonna spit? You filthy, fucking whore?! Taste it!!” Cedric growls. Sam is trying to scream, but he can’t get much of anything out when the demon suddenly drops to his knees again and sucks him in hard. Even though the foul fingers in his mouth retract, Sam can’t stop himself from shuddering and jerking when the warm mouth works up and down his dick vigorously. His swollen flesh feels like it’s on fire, pain shooting out in every direction from every lick of Cedric’s tongue. 

 

“Oh, yeah! That’s it, keep it tight, Sammy,” Winston coos appreciatively as he drags and pushes and pulls his dick in and out of Sam’s clenching and struggling hole. Sam is painfully oversensitive by now, and he squirms helplessly while Dean looks down at him, his ears ringing with his brother’s distressed sounds. Exhausted Sam is pointlessly pleading for them to stop, but his cries are only met with patronizing grins. And Dean can feel how wet his eyes are when Winston occasionally grunts out a ‘keep clenching’, and Lucas then mercilessly shoves his fingers in and out of Sam’s mouth, making him taste his own cum. Forcing the young hunter’s lips shut Lucas makes sure that he swallows down every drop of the gunk.

 

With cheeks burning Dean looks down into his own lap, not needing this visual of his brother. He can’t take any more. He can’t contain it. He ponders how they got this fucked up, how demons got the jump on them this badly. How could something like this ever happen to them? 'It's too surreal to be true', his mind informs him frantically - but as Winston’s voice shouts out and the slaps of skin against skin turn louder, Dean has to focus not to throw up. The room sails and his throat burns when bile climbs a little too high. At the same time a loud moan spills from Winston as he snaps his hips upwards, bucking and ramming himself deep into Sam with thrusts far more brutal than necessary.  

 

“Gonna fill ya, Sammy!! Gonna – ugh!!” Winston growls loudly - and Dean looks up just as he lets out a couple of final grunts, stuffing Sam to the brim while he holds him tightly in his lap. The demon’s body spasms, and cum spurts down Winston’s cock in white streams, dripping off his shaft and balls to land in sticky drops on the floor. For a few seconds the demon looks like he might crush the hunter, the grip on him bruising and looking like it is squeezing the air right out of him. The black-eyed man then draws in a ragged breath, shuddering lightly. 

 

“Aww, well fuck… He passed out at the best part!” he scoffs, and Dean watches as his brother’s unconscious body is discarded on the cement floor, slumped in a boneless heap. For a moment Dean is uncertain if Sam is even breathing, and his pulse immediately skyrockets – but then he spots the slight heaving of Sam’s chest, letting him know that he is indeed still alive. Relieved yet terrified Dean shivers. Every inch of his skin is covered in goosebumps and sweat and his mind is spinning, dizziness making the room sail and wobble.

 

“Well, well…!! Now _that’s_ what I call a good fuck!” Winston grins, tugging his dick back into his fancy dress pants with the neat press folds. Dean can feel his jaw muscles clenching in both anger and fear at his words, but he keeps his glance firmly fixed on his brother. He watches the rising and falling of his chest, finds it almost a little comforting. But Sam’s otherwise smooth and tanned skin is littered with bruises and cuts of all colors and shapes, bloody bite marks decorating it like some morbid type of tattoo. Right now Dean can’t see his little brother's face because of the tangled strands of hair covering it, but he knows that it is just as bruised as the rest of him. His heart sinks.

 

“I guess it’s time to call it a day, isn’t it? Let’s cash in!” Winston’s voice says somewhere in the room, and Dean frowns a little. What does that mean? Are they going to kill them now? A tiny part of him almost feels relieved by the thought – but still he instantly tenses. He has to protect Sam. He can’t let them—

 

“I‘m not going anywhere…!” Peter suddenly says, and all eyes flick to settle on the demon standing behind Dean.

 

“Excuse me?” Winston says, sounding genuinely surprised. For a moment the silence in the room seems ear-deafening and the tension can be cut with a knife. Holding his breath Dean is looking up at the black-eyed men, waiting for some sort of answer to what is going on.

 

“I haven’t had my turn with that one yet!” Peter then says, nodding towards Sam on the floor. Instantly a low chuckling spreads in the room and Dean’s blood runs cold.

 

“Oh, right…!” Winston murmurs, rubbing his chin speculatively.

 

“I guess it’s only fair for you to get your share,” he then adds with a shrug. Given a green light Peter instantly moves towards Sam’s unconscious body on the floor, closing the gap between them with long and confident strides. As Dean watches the demon close in on his brother it feels like his heart stops beating in his chest.

 

“N-No! No, you can’t!” Dean bursts out, voice desperate and cracking. But Peter merely turns his head to send him a smug grin before kneeling down next to Sam, letting a hand softly slide down his side and across the bruises blossoming there.

 

“Of course I can. He can take it,” Peter says, brushing the strands of hair away from Sam’s face. Dean hears himself snap for air as he tugs at his restraints. 

 

“No! Look at him! Look at him, he’s done…!!” he yells hoarsely, eyes getting wetter without him even knowing it. His hands and fingers are fidgeting desperately to somehow slip out of the rope tying them to the chair even though it has proven to be impossible about a million times by now. The demon kneeling next to Sam doesn’t seem to take much notice of his protests. Instead he is growing more eager, his big hands exploring and groping with a sickening curiosity that leaves Dean nauseous.

 

“Please, I’m begging you!! Take me! Take me instead!” Dean cries, not able to hold back a tear when it breaks free from the corner of his eye. A huff escapes the demon.

 

“Don’t think so. Maybe next time you’re givin’ a handjob you’ll finish it!? Look at this, I haven’t fucking cum!” Peter snarls and turns a little towards Dean as he points to his hard dick, still sticking out of his open fly, red and angry. Instantly Dean swallows hard, realizing that the demon is right. He didn’t finish the job. In fact he can’t even remember if he kept stroking him as instructed. But Sam can’t take anymore and panicked Dean shakes his head. 

 

“But he can’t!! He can’t!!” he yells, tearing at the restraints with the little strength he has left. Peter merely smirks.

 

“If I’m not mistaken…” Winston then suddenly butts in, eyes narrowed at Dean.

 

“… That Winchester is _still_ talking back, isn’t he!? Go ahead and grab Sammy, Peter! ‘Cause we’re not leaving until you have cum in that fine ass of his!” he barks, revealing a set of white teeth in a wide grin. Instantly Peter lights up and takes a firm hold of Sam’s arm, beginning to drag his limp body across the floor and towards the chair.

 

Lightheaded and petrified Dean squirms in the seat, making the heavy, wooden chair wobble ever so slightly. But otherwise nothing is budging – the hemp rope is still tightly securing his wrists and ankles, effectively immobilizing him despite his efforts. Even if he had all of his strength and pulled with all of his might, the rope still wouldn’t give. A tiny whimper escapes him, and he looks up at Peter as he approaches, dragging Sam behind him.                                               

                     

“Please…! Please, don’t! Take me, please, just take me!!” Dean pleads, his glance desperately searching the onyx demon eyes for any sort of mercy or room for negotiation. But the black-eyed man merely chuckles when he stops in front of Dean, the dim light sparkling in his cold glare.

 

“Already told ya. You’re not my type. But, Sammy here…? Oh, that’s a different story,” he smiles and winks at him. It feels like his heart is going to leap out of his chest when Peter grabs his brother and pulls him up, letting him dangle in front of him like some sort of ragdoll. Still unconscious Sam looks almost peaceful, his features relaxed and not wearing that ever-present frown or tensed-up jaw. Small droplets of sweat are glistening on his skin, gathering in his dark lashes and in his tangled hair along with blood, tears and semen smeared everywhere. Dean can feel a sob trying to rock him, and he swallows the lump formed in his throat by the sight of his brother.

 

“Please…” he says, his trembling voice sincere and honest. But Peter merely smiles at him, tilting his head a little to the side just like a curious canine.

 

“Nah,” he then laughs – and suddenly he lets Sam sink down on Dean’s lap, placing his long legs on each side of Dean’s muscular thighs. Sitting there with his back slumped against Peter’s chest while facing his older brother, Sam’s head lolls forwards to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Shivering Dean can feel him breathing softly against his skin, and he suppresses more tears from emerging in his eyes. He can tell how much Peter is enjoying this and his stomach churns and twists painfully with both dread, hatred and disgust as yet another useless ‘please’ spills from his lips. But this time it is rendered almost inaudible as another sob tries to rip from his throat, leaving him to tremble. 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

With Sam’s legs spread wide across Dean’s lap Peter reaches down and slowly lets his finger dip into the young hunter’s crack. The demons around them all laugh, making sounds of approval as Peter’s calloused digit slips inside the dripping hole, softly feeling Sam’s unresponsive insides. Dean is leaning into his brother, doing the best version of holding him that he can manage with his limbs bound. It doesn’t take long for the remaining demons to start whistling and commenting on the scene unfolding as Peter quickly slips two fingers inside of Sam, giving off a wet and slick sound.

 

“They opened you up pretty good, huh, baby?” Peter whispers almost lovingly against the side of his neck, and Dean can only assume that this statement is cue for finger number three. He watches on with anger and desperation fuming in his mind while Peter continues to test his brother’s body. Licking his dry bottom lip nervously Dean then flicks his gaze from Sam to the black-eyed man.

 

“I can be your type…” Dean whispers hoarsely, struggling to breathe properly at the sight before him. It feels like his airway has closed up shop and just given up, adding a slight wheeze to his voice.

 

“Want a hand?” Cedric suddenly says, standing behind the chair. Dean hadn’t even heard him approaching. Quickly the demon grabs a hold of Sam’s arms, slinging the long limbs over Dean’s shoulders and forcing the two hunters into an unwanted skin-on-skin hug. Dean feels the pressure getting heavier as Cedric holds the pair of them still, giving Peter the go-ahead.

 

“You’re gonna learn to shut your mouth before we’re done here, Dean-o…” Winston says as he takes a seat on a wooden crate nearby on the concrete floor.

 

“… Or I’ll pump that mouth of yours full of cum and sew your fucking lips shut!”

 

“Sounds like a delicious plan B!" Lucas chimes in before leaving through the door, no doubt taking the role as lookout while Peter claims his turn with the young Winchester.

 

“See, Dean… _This_ …” Peter says as he leans down behind Sam, nudging his enormous erection against Sam’s stretched and used hole.

 

“… _This_ is how I like my boys…” Peter says and pushes the large head of his cock inside with unnerving ease, starting to grunt with each inch entering the abused space.

 

“Compliant… Ugh… Quiet… Ahh…  And- fuck, he’s so fucking loose!” the demon groans, and Dean grits his teeth holding back the urge to scream at him to just get the hell away from his unconscious brother. He holds back fresh tears as they try to form in the corners of his raw and red eyes.

 

“C’mon, Sammy, you can take it. Let those pretty insides stretch for me…” Peter whispers and gives the back of the hunter’s neck a kiss as he pushes himself inside just a bit deeper.

 

“This is gonna take some time, Sammy. You feel so good, such a good boy...” the demon praises, and he shoots a glance at the older hunter in the chair, his expression smug and triumphant as he slides his hand down the length of Sam’s back.

 

By now Dean’s mind is a mantra, repeating over and over and over again not to respond, not to so much as growl in their direction. He can’t afford it. Sam can’t afford it. Even as Cedric’s hot breath ghosts across the back of his neck, Dean stays completely unresponsive even though it is making him cringe internally, mind crumbling into bits and pieces of dread combined with pure hatred. His glance briefly flick to Winston, who is sitting neatly on the crate while he flips through the pages of the spell book.

 

“There we go,” Peter says softly, his hands now gripping Sam’s bruised hips as he forces the last, long inches inside.

 

“Yeah, there we go, I'm in. You ready, Sam?”

 

Dean fights not to spit at him or yell profanities or twist and turn in the chair - because of course his brother isn’t ready. He’s not even conscious. Dean feels a scream trying to crawl out of his throat but he holds it down. He has to. For Sam. Instead he takes deep breaths through his nose and watches on in continued disgust as Peter holds on to Sam, impaling him on his way too big cock.

 

“Yeah, I think you’re ready…” Peter moans, a husky bass creeping into his voice that has Dean’s mind reeling. Suppressing a whimper he fixes his gaze on Sam, on the side of his head still slumped on his shoulder. He can’t see his face and he isn’t sure if he is grateful for that or not. A shiver runs through Dean as another puff of warm air hits the back of his neck when Cedric moves around a bit somewhere behind him, seemingly eager to see the show from the front row as he pulls at Sam’s arms a little. Bile rises in the older Winchester’s throat, and he digs his fingertips into his palms as hard as he can, trying to distract himself from doing something stupid.

 

“Fuck him…!” Cedric says impatiently, leaning against Dean ever so slightly as he spurs his friend on. Dean bites the inside of his cheek, trying to keep himself passive. By now big drops of sweat are running down his face, making his eyes sting along with the tears that he is trying so hard to repress.

 

“Come on, plow that fine ass already!” Cedric whines and tugs at Sam’s arms a little, making him press against Dean even harder. Skin against clammy skin.

 

“Oh, I will…” Peter says, his voice going a notch deeper as he tightens his grip on Sam’s hips. He then rolls his hips just a little and buries himself completely to the hilt, balls pressed flush against Sam’s. As the young hunter is rocked forwards in Dean’s lap by the movement, Cedric lets out an excited growl.

 

“Shit, so… So fucking good…!” Peter grunts breathlessly and starts to pull himself back out a little. As he does so Dean thinks he hears his brother let out a small sound, but he can’t tell over the roaring of his own pulse and the demons’ laughter echoing throughout the room. Shuddering he focuses on Sam’s breathing, making sure that the soft puffs of air are still there and are still even. Maybe listening for it can even help ground him a little, he thinks feverishly. Help his panicking mind to concentrate on something else. Not daring to close his eyes Dean hurries to redirect his focus to Sam’s breathing, trying to breathe in sync with him and trying to forget everything else. Then he frowns a little, suddenly questioning himself if his brother’s breathing has become a little faster or not.

 

“So open and pliant for me, Sammy…” Peter groans. He has pulled almost all the way out, the flared head of his cock close to slipping out of the slick hole. Another deep moan escapes the demon as he seems to revel in the feeling, his big hands kneading the bruised flesh on Sam’s hips. Peter seems almost gentle with him. Almost caring. But it’s of course all a façade. A lie. Because it doesn’t last for long. Suddenly - and without warning - the demon plunges back in, slamming himself against Sam with a scary amount of force that has his limp body smacking into Dean’s and making the chair wobble dangerously.

 

This time, as Peter penetrates him with a vicious thrust and bottoms out, Sam’s eyes fly open and he lets out a weird, strangled sound. It sounds animalistic. Raw. For a moment he doesn’t look like he knows what is going on or even where he is. His hazel eyes are wide, yet glassy, and he wheezes for air as his senses start to wake up from the sleep they have just been ripped from.

 

“Fuck, love it when you clench like that, boy!” Peter growls, apparently delighted with the fact that he has managed to wake up his victim. His fingertips are digging into Sam’s hips as he starts to fuck in and out of him with an aggression that has the young hunter whimpering incoherently into the crook of Dean’s neck.

 

“Yeah, that’s more like it!” Cedric cheers, keeping Sam’s arms stretched taut over Dean’s sweaty shoulders. With a grin he watches Sam’s eyes flicker with recognition when he realizes where he is and exactly what is happening.

 

“N-No…” Sam rasps, but his voice is so low that the sound of it almost seems to dissolve and drown out. But Dean hears it all too well. And it feels like his heart stops beating, a painful lump forming in his throat and lodging itself there, threatening to suffocate him. He can’t bear this. Can’t bear how his brother’s body is shaking weakly in his lap, how broken his voice sounds and how he can’t do a damn thing to help him.

 

“Plea-ease….” Sam whimpers, the word cut in two when his body is rocked back and forth as Peter thrusts into him mercilessly. Dean can feel how something warm and wet is running down his back, and he quickly realizes that it isn’t sweat or blood. It’s tears. And they are not his own even though they too are flowing freely now.

 

“Hey, Dean-o…?” Peter suddenly grunts, a grin plastered on his face.

 

“Why don’t you take a look at your brother, mm?” Peter says and grabs a handful of Sam’s hair to yank his head up from its resting position on Dean’s shoulder. Dean instinctively pulls at his restraints when his brother lets out a pained gasp, but he manages to still and bite his tongue just in time. As Sam’s face is pulled up in front of his own, Dean is certain that his heart shatters into a thousand pieces.                   

 

“Yeah, take a good look at that…” Peter says, snapping his hips forwards repeatedly and driving himself in as deep as he can possibly go every time. With each vicious thrust pure agony flashes across Sam’s delicate features, making him look absolutely petrified and hurt. Broken. His eyes are squeezed shut, only to open in shock when Peter rams himself back inside a little harder. His bloodied lips are slightly parted, allowing wheezy and irregular puffs of air to escape him way faster than they should, and Dean’s gut twists and turns painfully in fear. By now he has completely forgotten about holding back the tears – they are flowing freely down his cheeks and he can feel sobs rocking his body soundlessly as his little brother is violated in his lap.

 

“ _That_ is what happens when you run your mouth…!” Peter says breathlessly, shaking Sam by the hair a little as he keeps thrusting into him. A jumbled up chain of incoherent pleas are leaving the young hunter’s mouth now in what sounds like an endless loop, but it’s so hoarse and so low that it is nearly impossible to make out any of the words.  

 

“Look at him, Dean!” Peter orders. Dean closes his eyes, squeezing fresh tears out to run down his cheek and join the others. He then obeys, turning his head ever so slightly towards his brother. When he finally opens his eyes all he sees is Sam, filling almost his entire field of vision. And his little brother isn’t wearing that peaceful facial expression anymore. Not at all. Instead his face is contorted into an agonized grimace as his body is rocked back and forth, slowly but forcefully. Sam’s face is even wetter than his own, an abundance of fresh tears leaving streak lines down his cheeks, doing their bit to clean away the dirt there and leaving smooth trails of tanned skin behind in the middle of the layers of dust, blood and semen. His lips are parted, and he grunts out the quietest spurts of broken pleas, the sort that the demons too easily ignore because they’re barely audible.

 

Dean’s stomach twists itself into an even tighter knot at the sight, his toes are curled in his shoes, he keeps digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands, and his mouth is clamped shut, preventing any more mistakes to spill from his lips. He sucks in ragged breaths of air through his nose while Sam’s face painfully twitches only inches away from his own.

 

“Fuck… Is he good or what?” Cedric’s awestruck voice asks as Peter pushes his length inside again, never stopping until his heavy testicles slap against Sam, the sweat on his skin mixing with his own.

 

“Gonna clench for me? Huh, Sam? I’m gonna fill that tight ass of yours!” Peter grunts, retracting his cock from the young hunter. The hard erection is covered in a mix of semen and blood, both old and fresh, from Sam’s overused hole, and the sight only seems to egg the demon on. With a moan he quickly forces his cock back inside, enjoying the snug fit of Sam’s body hugging him.

 

“Yeah, gonna fill you up real good,” Peter says. He is picking up his pace now, and Sam is too far gone, too exhausted to fight back at all. The thought of trying to twist out of the demon’s grasp alone is enough to send his mind swirling back into semi-darkness, the alluring prospect of unconsciousness coming close but staying just out of reach. A whimper tries to leave his throat, but gets stuck. He knows that he can’t keep going, his body aches and is desperate for rest. Weakly he tries to pull his arms back, but Cedric instantly tightens his grip on his wrists.

 

“C’mon Sammy, we have other places to be… Clench that hole!" the demon then hisses into his face, and Dean can do nothing but watch as his brother tiredly rocks back and forth in his lap with each of Peter’s thrusts. The young hunter looks almost catatonic now, like he is about to pass out – but Peter suddenly raises his hand and slaps it down hard on Sam's ass, making him automatically jump from the sudden pain and clench around the thick, monstrous cock.

 

"C’mon… That’s it! Yeah!” Peter groans and starts to thrust a little faster, sending shivers spiked with white hot pain up Sam’s spine.

 

“It’s okay, Sam…” Dean hears himself whisper in a desperate attempt to soothe his brother. But as soon as the words have left his lips he curses himself for his mindless mumble.

 

“You just don’t learn, do you!? When we say ‘shut the fuck up’, we mean it! We want you to sit there _quietly_   while we fuck your brother!” Cedric hisses angrily. Instantly Dean feels his heart skip a beat.  

 

“Do you want us to kill him?” the demon then whispers in his ear, the words ice cold and heartbreaking. Dean’s tear-stained face twitches into something close to a snarl, but he doesn’t respond. Instead he closes his eyes, trying to cling on to what feels like is the very last of his sanity.

 

“I asked you a fucking question,” Cedric says flatly.

 

“Do you want us… to kill him?”

 

“No… No, please…” Dean manages to rasp, and it feels like his heart is about to pound its way right out of his ribcage from pure horror.

 

“You better prove it then. Give him a kiss,” the demon says. Dean feels his heart sink at the ominous request. He can’t. He doesn’t want to. But he doesn’t have a choice.

 

“And don’t spare any tongue!” the black-eyed man behind Dean adds, and there’s a light chuckling around the room. Dean’s mind is spinning as he starts to consider that kissing Sam can’t be any worse than what he or Sam have already been through. At least it doesn’t physically hurt, he thinks to himself dizzily.

 

Reluctant but completely out of options Dean leans forwards and tries to catch Sam’s mouth with his own. As he struggles to reach properly Peter slows down his thrusting a little and pulls almost all the way out to let the brothers reluctantly try to kiss each other. Then, once again without any sort of warning, he shoves his cock back in, burying himself to the hilt. Instantly Sam cries out when it feels like he is split in two, his insides being torn to shreds as the demon moves. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and muffles Sam’s gut wrenching cries by pushing his tongue into his brother’s mouth and connecting their lips in an awkward and sloppy kiss.

 

“Aww, would you look at that!” Cedric grunts, pulling a little at Sam’s wrists draped over Dean’s shoulders to press the brothers even closer together.

 

“Brotherly love at its finest, gentlemen,” he scoffs and leans down a little further to get a closer view of the action. Sam is panting and whimpering breathlessly against Dean’s mouth – but he isn’t trying to resist the invading tongue or the all too intimate touch even though he would like to. His fogged up mind is hazily informing him that it is to absolutely no use and that his body has zero energy to spare as it is. Besides, resistance will probably only result in something much worse.

 

“That’s a good boy, Dean-o,” Winston says from somewhere in the background, but through the frantic sound of his pulse hammering in his ears Dean has trouble hearing him. He doesn’t hear the soles of the demon’s shoes shuffle closer either – and when a hand grips his hair to let its fingers card through it, he almost jumps.

 

“My, my…” Winston hums as he leans down a little.

 

“Never thought I’d see the day,” he says, lightly pulling at Dean’s short spikes of hair. Focused on his brother Dean has no idea what the demon’s words might mean, and to be honest his mind is way too fuzzy and way too panicked to even care at this point.

 

“Fuck, Sammy, you feel so fucking good!” Peter growls, slamming a flat hand down on Sam’s ass once more. The almost soundless whimper that escapes Sam as a result is drowned out by the wet noises Dean’s lips make against his own, and he just ends up snapping for air as his brother’s tongue clumsily explores his mouth.

 

“Shit…!” Peter grunts, slamming against Sam harder yet, driving himself as far inside of the young hunter as he can go. As he bottoms out completely, he does it with a force strong enough to almost knock Sam off balance – the only thing holding him in place in his brother’s lap is Cedric’s strong grip on his wrists and arms. A strangled sound is ripped from Sam’s throat as his lips are squashed against Dean’s when he is pushed forwards, and he finds himself suddenly just lolling his head on Dean’s shoulder, the kiss finally broken.

 

As pain zaps through every nerve end in his body Sam slumps into a boneless heap in his brother’s lap, his mind wavering back and forth between being conscious and shutting down. He can’t feel his hands or fingers, because Cedric’s iron grip on them has cut off the blood circulation. But everything else, every tiny inch of his body, is screaming in agony.

 

‘WHACK’ – another hard slap from Peter’s hand leaves a scarlet imprint on his ass, and Sam shudders. It’s like his body doesn’t even have the energy to respond properly to pain anymore. Instead he remains boneless as small twitches run through him, chills rolling from the base of his spine to the top of his head and back again in endless cascades of what feels like icy water.

 

‘WHACK’ – another slap hits his raw ass cheek, and suddenly Peter starts to hit him harder and faster. The slaps now rain down over him in a flurry, that makes Sam’s breath hitch and his eyes water even more. The sound is vulgar and incredibly loud in the room, and it almost drowns out the demons’ laughter and degrading remarks coming from seemingly everywhere. Still, Sam is pretty sure that he can actually hear his brother heaving rapidly for air – and if he focuses his eyes as hard as he can, he can see how his pulse is beating in the large vein on the side of his neck. Fast and hard. And strong, he thinks to himself hazily. Without even registering it Sam fixes his gaze on that vein, just staring at how the skin there pulses. Zoning out.

 

“Oh, fuck…!” Peter hisses, pistoning his hips and ramming himself into the limp body in front of him. The demon can feel his balls draw up, and with a snarl he digs his fingers into Sam’s hips to hold him steady as he pounds into him mercilessly. The squelchy sounds are filthy and loud, and the demon’s hips stutter ever so slightly.

 

“I want you to look at each other,” he then pants, sending Dean a diabolical glare.

 

“Want you to look into your baby brother’s eyes when I fill him up,” he groans, snapping his hips forwards again and rocking Sam in Dean’s lap. The black-eyed man tilts his head a little, staring at Dean with an almost victorious expression, reveling in the fear and anger that instantly flash across the hunter’s features. Dean’s lower lip quivers ever so slightly, disgust and murderous rage washing through him so fast that he feels his stomach flip. But he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t make a single sound. Because he can't risk provoking the demons again, can't let Sam take any more of this. 

 

“I’ll help you out,” Winston chuckles in a patronizing tone of voice. And with that he grabs a fistful of Sam’s sweat-drenched hair, yanking his head up from its resting position on Dean’s shoulder.

 

“Look at him,” Winston says, lightly shaking Sam by his hair and making him gasp. With his face only inches from his brother’s, Sam can feel how Dean’s breath comes out in small, panicked puffs of air.  

                     

“Yeah!” Peter moans as he slams into the torn-up Winchester, his eyes glaring at Dean to make sure that the older hunter looks in the right direction - not that he has anywhere else to fix his glance.

 

“You were made for this, Sammy” Winston says, a light chuckle hidden under his breath when Peter pulls back and thrusts forwards with vicious speed, surely tearing Sam even more in the process.

 

Even though Dean refuses to give up, he can feel his willpower slowly crumbling away. He wants to struggle, wants to snap at the demons. Wants to just pounce at them. He wants to kill every single one of these bastards, and he wants to do it slowly. He wants to make them suffer like they have made Sam suffer. Yet still, here he sits quietly, just looking his devastated and abused little brother in the eye and not being able to do a damn thing about any of this. Even if he could he isn’t sure if he’d be strong enough. And he hates himself for it. 

 

“Oh, fuck... I’m gonna blow!” Peter grunts, and Cedric finally lets Sam's wrists go. Exhausted, Sam is quick to rest his bruised and semi-numb hands on Dean’s shoulders, his thumbs digging into the skin a little too hard. But Dean doesn't even wince or hiss at the pain. Because it's nothing compared to the show before him. Forced to look Sam dead in the eye he tries to somehow telepathically tell him that it’s okay… That they’re going to get out of here… That he’ll take care of him… But it all feels like a lie. And Sam’s gaze is vacant, his hazel eyes glazed over and only halfway conscious.

 

Winston is still holding Sam up by a fistful of his chestnut locks when Peter starts a low growl, a deep rumbling coming from somewhere in his chest. His hips stutter as he slams himself against Sam, his thrusts erratic and just as aggressive as they are sloppy. A few thrusts later and he roars out in blissful pleasure, face contorting as he empties himself inside the young hunter’s trembling body. Connected at the hips the demon lets the last of his seed mix with that of his friends’ inside of Sam's body.

 

Dean aches at the sight, wanting so badly to speak up and tell his brother that he's right here, that it will all be okay. He hopes that his eyes can speak those words instead of his voice, but he hates not being able to lie to Sam. He knows that he won’t believe him. Still, he makes sure that his face looks solid and reassuring, puts on the brave façade the best he can. But it all crumbles when Peter pulls his dick out, and Sam lets out something that sounds like a horrifying mix between a shout and a whimper. Half a second later Dean watches as his brother’s body collapses right in front of him, slipping off his lap and tumbling to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

 

“We done?” Lucas asks from the doorway. The demons mutter amongst themselves, but Dean doesn’t lift his gaze off of Sam. His little brother’s chest is heaving irregularly as he gasps and tries to force the air to reach his lungs. When he thinks he has forgotten to breathe he forces himself to take a quick inhale of breath through his nose, wheezing. His fingernails crack against the cement below him as he pointlessly scratches at it, trying to hold on to anything for comfort. There isn't any part of him that doesn't ache, that doesn't pulse or sting or twitch or scream or just radiate in a constant reminder of what has happened. Even the fluids leaking from him set his skin alight with pain. He tries not to move, but even not moving hurts beyond belief. Sam thinks about just screaming out mindlessly, but he doubts that he can even if he wants to, his throat feeling dry and raw. So he just lies there, helpless and twitching and waiting to discover what else the demons will do before they leave with the book. All of this because of a book.

 

“No…!” Sam manages to gasp when a hand grabs roughly at his ankle and drags him two feet further away from his brother.

 

“I bet you weren't even listening to a word I just said. Were you, boy?” Winston snarls and drops Sam's foot, looking proud when Sam doesn't try to move away. Instead he rolls over and onto his side, the pain being too overwhelming - and the young hunter empties his stomach, vomiting out of sheer pain. Cramping he throws up the little he can, thick drops staining the dusty cement. As he weakly spits the last of the vile liquid out of his mouth, he realizes that he doesn't know if it's vomit, blood or semen he can taste. Probably all three.

 

“And Sammy…?!” Winston snarls, leaning down to grab Sam by the throat. Dean instantly shifts forwards in his chair, words on the verge of tumbling off his tongue - but he doesn't dare to speak without permission. Winston tightens his grip on Sam’s neck and watches him gasp for air.

 

“I can still make use of this pretty throat of yours if I want,” he whispers, lifting Sam off the ground. The young Winchester doesn't have enough energy to lift his hands in order to push Winston off of him - instead he dangles by his neck, and Winston clenches his hand harder, almost crushing hunter's windpipe.

 

“And I want to, Sam. I really want to use your throat again. I want to watch my colleagues here use it, but look at ‘em…” Winston says as he lifts Sam a bit higher into the air and turns him a little to stare at the other demons.

 

“… Why, you've gone and drained them all!” Winston scoffs, now flicking his glance to look at Dean in the chair. A crooked smile then spreads on the demon’s lips, and the next two things Dean hears is the sound of Sam gasping followed by the sound of his body hitting the floor again.

 

“You got anything to add?” Winston asks and turns to face Dean, but the hunter can only make the same mistake so many times. He goes still and stays quiet, fearfully refusing to open his mouth. He doesn’t dare, afraid that this might be some sort of trick to get him to make yet another mistake. 

 

“I asked you a question, don't be disrespecting me now! Haven't you had enough lessons, Dean?” Winston hisses. Dean swallows thickly, mind racing.

 

“No,” he rasps.

 

“No, what?” Winston snarls.

 

“I've got nothing to add…!” Dean says lowly. For a moment Winston looks almost surprised. As his black eyes rake over Dean, inspecting and studying his body language and determining if he is playing games or not, the other demons chuckle and laugh in the background. Then Winston huffs and cracks a wide smile, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

“Well, well… Would you look at that! A sensible Winchester!” he chuckles humorlessly. He then turns his head and glances over at his pack of demons, shrouded in the shadows behind him.

 

“Oh, Peter? Why don’t you get the boys their presents?” Winston asks. The demon nods at the order and turns around, rummaging about for something in the dark that Dean can’t make out. Instantly his mind spikes with new fear and his heart gallops as he tries to decipher the situation and what the demons are up to now. Nervously he swallows when he hears the clinking of metal, and he can barely see Peter as he turns around, holding something in his hands.

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this story takes place somewhere in the middle of season 2. That detail is vital for the storyline and especially the ending. ;)
> 
> Happy reading and thank you so much for tuning in. I and @Palishere had an awesome time writing this, and we hope that you enjoy(ed) the ride...! Let us know what you think! We apologize in advance for our cruelty.

 

 

 --------- 

 

As Peter steps towards Winston, the dim light in the room illuminates the objects in his hands a tiny bit, and Dean squints to make out what it is. They look round and a little shiny. Frowning he can’t seem to make sense of it though.

 

“You see, you’re not quite done…” Winston says, his smile widening to reveal a set of white teeth. Instantly Dean feels the ball of fear in his stomach double in size, and he shifts in the chair uneasily as Peter steps closer to stand next to Winston, presenting the objects to him.

 

“What, you didn’t think we were gonna let you walk, did you?” Winston asks. Apparently he has noticed the inquisitive and fearful look on Dean’s face, and he bursts into laughter. Right away his band of demons joins in, their noise bouncing off the walls and echoing in the room.

 

“Damn, Dean… Are you really that naïve?” he asks and turns towards Peter, grabbing one of the two objects in his hand. As he lifts it up and weighs it in his hand, the light bounces off the reflective surface of the metal.

 

“Oh, no, you’re far from done. See, this isn’t some random play date. This is like…” Winston says, but trails off, looking like he is thinking hard while he chews on the inside of his cheek. With an amused huff he nudges his dress shoe into Sam’s ribs and pushes, turning him on to his back on the cement floor. The young hunter winces and rasps something incoherent as his body is moved, pain instantly ricocheting through him like a stray bullet. Dean tenses up further, his glance instantly flicking to his brother.

  

“This is like… Hey, have you ever seen that show ‘Auction Hunters’?” Winston asks, glaring at Dean. Nervously the older Winchester looks up at the demon, unsure of what to think or what to say - or _if_ he should even say anything. Swallowing dryly Dean then carefully nods his head, confused.

 

“Well, this is sort of like that. See, you’re a priced item… A valuable one even. I guess you can say that the Winchester brothers are worth more than their own weight in gold. But I guess you already knew that…” the demon says and kneels down next to Sam. Slowly Winston reaches out his hand and brushes a strand of hair away from his sweaty face, smirking when the semi-conscious hunter flinches away from the touch. 

 

“What you don’t know is that we’ve already got a buyer,” Winston says, looking back at Dean with victory painted all over his pale face. Confused Dean stares back at him, uncertain of what exactly this means. He knows that basically every single monster out there wants them dead, but why aren’t the demons just killing them then? 

 

“Hahah, oh, Dean-o... You never were the clever one,” Winston mocks and fiddles with the thing in his hand. As Dean flicks down his glance to inspect it further, his jaw drops.

 

“Ah, yes. See, you’re going to the highest bidder. I’m sure you and your brother will just love the arrangement…” the demon says as he wraps the metallic collar around Sam’s neck, clicking it shut. On its front there’s a tag that reads ‘Sammy’, and Dean’s stomach churns.                          

                     

“There you go, Sammy, you look real good with that on,” Winston sings, his hands now fiddling with a chain that he’s attaching to the collar. Winston whistles at one of his fellow demons and barks at them:

 

“Oi! Bring me a nice pair of handcuffs for our little plaything over ‘ere!”

 

Sam is slouched over, unable to lift his head, it just lolls. Lucas comes in and passes the shackles to his boss.

 

“See here, Dean-o, we were under strict instructions; get the book and make light work of the two of you. But I was contacted by a third party who said he’d pay handsomely if we managed to…” Winston says, but pauses to take a deep breath as if he’s thinking hard once more. He then maneuvers Sam onto his stomach, attaching the set of handcuffs to his wrists, restraining the long limbs behind his back. The young hunter grunts in pain when his arms are forcefully moved, the sore joints throbbing as a result, but otherwise he makes no sound. Winston clears his throat, flicking his glance back to Dean:

 

“… Well, if we managed to do exactly this. Restrain and present the two of you to him. He says he has a place for you both. Here, hold this,” he says and passes the chain to Peter, trading it for the second collar that his subordinate demon holds in his hand - and Winston starts to approach Dean, a smug smile plastered on his face.

 

“We were under strict orders: To corner and capture your brother and show him what kind of new life awaits him. Teach him to take orders like the good, little whore that he’ll become—”

 

“And did he take orders! Barely batted an eye when told to take your cock, huh, Dean? He liked that,” Peter butts in and lets out a quick laugh:

 

“Gulped that whole thing down!”

 

“We were under strict orders for you too. Not to break a bone in your body, to hardly touch you,” Winston smiles and brushes the back of his hand over Dean’s face, making him flinch away from the touch.

 

“To make you watch your sweet little brother fall apart, make your heart hurt. But we were not to take you, not to break you… Because he wants to do that himself,” Winston says, triumphantly holding up Dean’s collar in front of the older hunter’s face. The little metal tag at the front catches the dim light and flashes it through the semi-darkness of the room, and Dean shudders when he catches a glimpse of the writing on the thin metal plate. It simply reads: ‘Dean-o’. Bile claws at the inside of his throat, and he can feel his mind reeling and the room almost spinning as a new sensation of panic starts to spread.

 

“Lift your chin, Dean-o,” Winston purrs.

 

“You bastards!” Dean spits, lifting his chin only slightly - but just enough to look Winston in the eye - as he snaps the words. But his glance is instantly shifted to Peter in the background when the demon demonstratively shakes the chain attached to Sam’s neck. He yanks it hard, forcing Sam to get pulled up on his knees to hang from the chain for a moment, his body not having a fraction of the strength needed to actually keep himself upright.

 

“I’m gonna let that one slide for now. But Dean, if you fight this... Or me… We’ll pin you down and make Sammy here suffer. Do you understand?” Winston says, onyx eyes piercing Dean to the bone. The older hunter hears every word and understands them all too well, his glance not moving an inch from Peter who finally lets Sam’s body relax in the chains, lowering it a little to let his brother’s body collapse on the dirty cement floor.

 

“Do you understand?!”

 

The ball of fear buried somewhere in Dean’s chest tightens painfully as his mind scrambles to find a way out of this. But he comes up short.

 

“Yes…”

 

“Good boy. Now lift your chin, so I can put on your present.”

 

Reluctantly he complies, lifting his head and letting Winston collar him. As the collar clicks shut it feels like something inside of him breaks. Something he didn’t even know was there. Swallowing dryly Dean tries to concentrate, tries to keep his mind from panicking - but all too quickly another chain is looped through the collar, a metallic rattling sound echoing in the room and shattering his focus completely.

 

Winston cracks a wide smile, white teeth sparkling in the dim light. It’s almost as if he can read Dean’s mind, and the hunter can’t help but shiver a little by the thought. As the smiling demon calls for Cedric and Lucas to untie him from the chair, he shoots Peter a stare:

 

“Keep an eye on brother dearest, yeah? Not that he poses a threat right now, but I guess you never know,” Winston says, chuckling lightly. 

 

As the rope is removed from Dean’s bloodied wrists and feet, Cedric grabs his hair and yanks his tired body up from the chair, forcing him onto his knees on the floor in front of it. Dean feels a little unprepared for how tired he suddenly feels, and he starts to question how long they’ve been here and how Sam can still even be conscious. He has to admit that he has lost count of the hours… Or is it days?

 

Lucas brutally forces Dean’s arms behind his back and tightens the chains around his wrists, forcing old cuts and lacerations to burst open again beneath the cool surface of the new restraints. Ignoring the blood starting to flow, the demon is trying his best to make the older Winchester look presentable for the buyer and ultimately for the new home which awaits him.

 

Winston’s gaze flicks between the two boys, coolly assessing the situation. Dean is looking feisty and ready to lunge at him, apparently still believing that he can somehow save his baby brother. And Sam, barely able to support himself on his knees as Peter keeps the chain pulled tight, just looks tired and broken. He is covered in blood, snot, semen and various other types of dirt and liquids. He sobs quietly while he sways lightly back and forth, looking like he’s on the verge of unconsciousness.

 

“On your feet!” Winston then barks at the brothers, his voice ringing out loudly. Dean’s gaze instantly flicks up to stare at the demon, concern and panic racing through his veins.

 

“Time to go—”

 

“You can’t! Just take me! Please! Leave Sam… Please!” he yells, voice almost cracking. Winston immediately sneers at him and pulls at his chain forcefully, making the hunter fall forwards. Dean barely manages to turn his head in time, but he avoids smashing his face into the floor. Instead he lands with a grunt on his stomach on the dirty cement and breathes in the dust and dirt there, coughing when it tickles the back of his throat and threatens to suffocate him.

 

“Gag him. He’s just gonna scream the whole time anyway…” Winston grumbles. Instantly Cedric sticks his hand in his pocket, searching for something to stuff into Dean’s mouth, and panicked the hunter looks up at the demons surrounding him, awkwardly lifting his head from the floor.

 

“Please, just let him go! Don’t do this! Whatever this guy’s paying you, I’ll double it!” Dean pleads, no longer caring about how utterly desperate he sounds. Instantly the demons burst into laughter.

 

“Oh, Dean-o… I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way,” Winston scoffs, and tugs at the chain a little, forcing the hunter to get back up on his knees. Sweating and refusing to give up Dean shakes his head and looks up at the demon holding the chain.

 

“I’ll triple it! I’ll give you whatever you want, I’ll do anything…! Please, just… Just let my brother go, please—” he begs, but the last part of the sentence fades into muffled sounds when Cedric stuffs his tie into Dean’s mouth, swiftly tying it behind his head and effectively muting the hunter.

 

“Ah, that’s better…” Winston smiles and yanks at the chain, forcing Dean on to his feet. Shaking and almost falling straight back down the hunter has no choice but to try to follow the pull, staggering awkwardly behind Winston as he walks towards the door. A desperate cry is muffled almost completely when he is pulled past Sam, his glance glued to his little brother who is still slumped in a motionless heap.

 

“Well, ain’t that a sight for sore eyes, huh?” Winston laughs and keeps pulling at the chain when he feels Dean trying to dig his heels into the ground.

 

“Give it up, Dean-o. You can’t save him. Now, c’mere!” the demon snarls, forcing the collared Winchester to helplessly stumble past his brother. As he passes him, he tries to catch Sam’s eye, but he looks completely gone, his eyes only half open and staring at something far, far away.            

“You can ride at my feet, Sammy. I think I might have another load for you before we arrive,” Peter smirks and rattles the chain, making Sam flinch ever so slightly when the heavy and cold metal slaps against him.

 

“Up we go,” the demon says and grabs a hold of the young hunter, hauling him up from the floor by his arms. There is no chance of him walking out on his own, so instead the demon just picks him up as if he weighs nothing. With little effort he is flung over the demon’s sturdy shoulder, and Sam finds himself dangling there like a ragdoll as they move towards the door. His eyes try to focus, try to fix on something – anything – as they move, but everything just seems to sail and wobble and do barrel rolls. The only thing he can pick up on is the intense pain flaring through his body by every tiny movement and a blurry cement floor passing by somewhere under him as the demon walks.             

 

“Dean…” he hears himself rasp, and instantly he can feel the shoulder under him start to shake a little as the demon chuckles.

 

“Nah, your brother can’t help you now,” Peter says, and slaps his ass almost playfully. Flinching Sam falls silent, mind spinning and body begging for his brain to just shut down and give way for unconsciousness. If only it would. But instead of passing out he keeps floating somewhere in the edge of awareness, only registering small bits and pieces of what is happening. He can’t really tell where he is or what is going on, everything just feels warped and strangely fragmented – like his thoughts are getting chopped into tiny splinters that don’t even make sense anymore.

 

Confused he groans when he feels cool air sweep across his overheated skin, and the crunching of gravel reaches his ears. At least he thinks it’s gravel. Trying to focus once more he opens his eyes – but it’s dark and he can’t tell where the demon is going or even what surface he is moving across. Was there a dirt road behind the old factory? He doesn’t remember.

 

“You did good, boys. Time to get paid,” Winston’s voice says, and Sam thinks he hears his brother groan somewhere nearby. He wonders why he isn’t saying anything, but a vague memory in his mind suggests that maybe he has been gagged. But he isn’t sure. At all. He isn’t sure of anything.

 

“Fuck yeah,” the demon carrying him says, and Sam’s world suddenly flips when he feels his body getting thrown down and onto something hard. A choked yelp escapes his sore throat when every nerve end in his body screams at him in agony, protesting the sudden movement and the rough impact with what feels like metal. For a moment he thinks that he might throw up again, but it only becomes a weird, abdominal cramp which leaves him to shiver.

 

Then something starts to roar and the material he is lying on starts to vibrate, almost hum against him. An engine, Sam thinks to himself. He’s in a vehicle of some sort. Maybe in the back of a pickup truck or something. Dizzy he wants to sit up, but instantly pain shoots through him like a raging tidal wave, leaving him to gasp – and instantly he feels a broad hand hold him down. There is a demon right next to him, apparently.

 

Where’s Dean? Feeling panic trying to overwhelm his hazed mind, Sam attempts to formulate a sentence to ask the bastards about his brother, but the words seem to evaporate before he can put them together. And then time slips. So does his vision. Along with everything else.

 

 

****************************

 

 

Sam feels his face twitching as consciousness slowly but surely returns, stirring his mind awake - but he knows not to open his eyes, to keep his breathing steady and hopefully unchanged so he has a chance to map out what the current situation is. He listens carefully, tries to pick up on every sound and decipher them as they come. Because he knows that the demons are there. He can hear Winston talking, but to his frustration he can’t really make out the words, because his head and everything else is throbbing viciously, the pulsing noise in his ears drowning out the details of whatever the demon is saying.  

 

Slowly the memory of the previous events starts to settle deep in his mind and in the pits of his stomach in all of its gory detail, and he lets his eyes crack open to escape the images flashing on the inside of his eyelids. Squinting he sees the inside of a damp warehouse, columns of steam rising through the air in the background. Instantly he spots Winston, and his stomach churns automatically. The demon is taking hold of some sort of artifact. It looks strange. Rare. Sam turns his head a little, eyes scanning his surroundings in search for his brother – and relief washes through him when he catches a glimpse of him.

 

“Dean…” Sam croaks and turns onto his side, weakly kicking his legs against the cement to push his body closer to his brother. The brother that has always been there for him and always watches out for him no matter what. Now he looks so hurt and vulnerable, and that doesn’t quite fit the image in Sam’s head somehow, because Dean has always been the stronger one. The better one. He is the brother who helped him nurse every bruise and cut and broken bone since Sam grew old enough to get into trouble. The brother who made every holiday without their father bearable. But also the brother who is now forced onto his knees, naked and with a tie wrapped around his head, connected to a demon by a long iron chain.

 

“Dean!” Sam calls out again, swallowing thickly when his voice wants to fail him. His legs don’t exactly want to cooperate, but he forces his knees to bend anyway and pushes his body back. He is almost surprised when he actually manages to get up on his knees, straightening his back the little it is capable of. He hears his brother utter something muffled that has to be his name when Sam’s chain suddenly goes tight. And he realizes that he can’t get any closer.

 

“Dean...!? W-What’s- no! Please, don’t!“

 

A man Sam doesn’t recognize pulls on his chain until his body is forced to move back. Without the use of his arms Sam has little choice as his body is dragged further and further away from his brother, legs scraping and kicking against the cement.

 

“Dean…!” Sam shouts although his throat begs him not to.

 

“Thought he'd be too broken to make this much noise?” the casually dressed demon at the end of the chain asks into the room.

 

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted to have that honor yourself, sir,” Winston smiles.

 

“Dean!!” Sam yells again. It feels like his throat is on fire, completely raw from screaming.

 

“You could have at least gagged him,” the demon mumbles, pulling on the chain again. As it yanks at the solid collar around Sam’s neck, he suddenly notices that he’s now further away from the spot where he started. And when he looks over his shoulder at the pair of demons he can see where he’s being led - towards a tall pair of doors that don’t at all fit the rest of the rundown décor of the abandoned warehouse.

 

“Come on, I have so many plans for you!”

 

As the distance between the brothers gradually grow bigger, Dean’s heart sinks while he can do nothing but listen to Sam’s desperate cries, begging him not to let the demons separate them. And that is apparently exactly what is happening. He bites down on the gag and finds himself trying to somehow telepathically tell his brother that he’ll never stop fighting for him. Every step of the way he’ll fight. And even if they do take Sam away from him, he _will_ get him back. No matter what happens, he will find him. He swears to himself – and to his brother, even though he can’t tell him. He can’t make a single coherent sound through the tie stuffed into his mouth. 

 

Sam is mindlessly screaming for Dean by the time they reach the doors, voice so hoarse that it is cracking and turning into wheezing noises. The older hunter turns his head and cranes his neck to look at him, letting this horrific image of his brother scorch itself into the back of his mind - so that he can never forget the desperation painted on his face. So that it will haunt him every single day until he finds him again. Because he has to. He _has_ to.

 

Dean can feel himself wince when the doors close, swinging shut with a ‘bang’. And he can no longer see his brother – but he can still hear him screaming as the demon drags him further away, the echoes of his voice growing fainter by the second. The older Winchester’s stomach churns.

 

“Don’t worry Dean-o, your buyer won’t be long,” Winston snickers. Dean stares daggers at the demon. He does remember Winston saying that he and his pack of scum had a buyer for them - but the bastard never mentioned that this “buyer” was two different people. And soon the demon offering the highest price is probably going to drag Dean from here through the very same set of doors that his brother has just disappeared behind. Swallowing a lump suddenly formed in his throat Dean blinks rapidly to clear his wet eyes, and he glares at Winston. The black-eyed man merely snorts and sends him a patronizing smile. Then suddenly the sound of boot soles moving across the floor can be heard approaching, piercing the silence in the warehouse.

 

“Sir! How kind of you to come yourself. An unexpected surprise,” Winston bursts out, and he immediately drops down on one knee, bowing his head in respect.

 

“I simply couldn’t trust anyone else with this purchase. Is he as I asked?”

 

“Barely touched, but roughed up a little when he refused to comply. But his will to fight is intact. Just as you requested, sir.”

 

“And the book?”

Winston instantly nods and hands the newcomer the heavy spellbook. His movements are slow and careful as if he is handling something very delicate, and the look on the stranger’s face is one of both curiosity and awe as he flips through a few pages. He then nods, closing the book gently.    

 

“Your payment,” he says coolly, and Winston stands back up to receive some sort of item carefully wrapped.

 

“Bring him closer, Peter,” the newcomer says calmly, holding his hand out and waving them over. The black-eyed man at the end of Dean’s chain moves right away, not wanting to keep the other demon waiting. Apparently he is some sort of V.I.P., Dean briefly thinks to himself and glances up at him. The man’s face is thin and pale, and he wears a suit like all of the other no-name-demons, but something emits from him. Like an invisible surge of power. Cold.

 

“You sure this is him? This is the first born son of John Winchester?”

 

Dean jerks at the sound of his father’s name, and he pulls away slightly when the demon reaches for his face. Then his gag is finally removed, the tie pulled down over his chin to dangle there around his neck, heavy with saliva.

 

“Bring my brother back here now! I’ll kill you! I promise you - I’ll kill you!” Dean instantly growls, staring directly at the man towering above him.

 

“Definitely has the Winchester spirit. Where is the other one?”

 

“Sold to your brother, sir.”

 

“To my brother? Yes. I suppose he _would_ be the next best buyer,” the demon says and turns Dean’s head to the side, inspecting the bruises on his neck and across his shoulder.

 

“How did these get here?”

 

“The other Winchester was eager to be close to his big brother.”

 

“I saw the video. I didn’t see Samuel sucking Dean’s neck. Was it you?” the buyer asks bluntly, turning his attention to Peter. Dean’s face automatically twitches in annoyance and slight schadenfreude when he sees the demon’s facial expression turn nervous. Because yes, it _had_ been Peter.

 

“Yes, sir…” Peter says, his voice stumbling a little, and Dean starts to seriously wonder exactly who this buyer is.

 

“How did he taste? Hmm?”

 

“Sir, we did what we thought was—” Winston begins, trying to defend his friend. But the buyer instantly holds up a thin, bony finger and interrupts:

 

“Let him answer. How did he taste?”

 

“Sweet, sir…”

 

“I was strict on my order that he wasn’t to be touched. You say that he barely was, but in the video your friends are seen disregarding that order. And I’m not just talking about a couple of bruises, Winston.”

 

“I don’t understand, sir…” Winston says and shakes his head. Now he looks nervous too, Dean notices. He flicks his gaze back to the buyer, trying to determine what is going on. Then suddenly the pale man snaps his fingers, and two demons come barging into the room, dragging a body with them. 

 

Dean can’t comprehend what he is seeing, and his eyes widen. They have dragged in Cedric. And the demon is quickly and unceremoniously dropped at the buyer’s feet, landing with a thud. He instantly looks up, not daring to get up from his crumbled and cowering position on the floor. Dean frowns when he hears him start to beg for his life. For forgiveness.

 

“Stand up!” the buyer orders in a flat voice.

 

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m sorry…”

 

“Do you know what your crime is?”

 

“N-No, sir, we did what you asked!” Cedric says, his voice shaky and desperate.

 

“How many fingers did he take? When you violated his anal cavity?”

 

Dean instantly tenses at the mention of that moment. He recalls all too vividly how Sam was forced down into his lap, eagerly sucking his hard cock while Cedric sat beside him... And Dean has lost count of how many fingers the demon had forced inside of him then. He shudders at the thought.

 

“Looked like it could have been three or four… One order; don’t touch him any more than necessary. And - was it necessary? Mm?” the buyer asks, glaring at Cedric.

 

It is like the four demons are on trial for their actions, and Dean is at a loss for words. What the hell is going on? Cedric is as pale as a sheet, Winston looks almost frozen, Lucas is just standing there slack-jawed and nervous and Peter is just looking flat-out terrified. Looking from one to the other, Dean can’t help but wonder why the buyer cares so much about his physical condition. But before he has the chance to collect his thoughts or speculate further, Cedric suddenly screams. The sound is bloodcurdling and high-pitched, and shocked Dean shifts his gaze to look at the demon - his otherwise black eyes flash yellow and red, glowing and flickering like a broken light bulb in the darkness of the warehouse. And then his body collapses and hits the floor with a sickening ‘crack’. And he doesn’t move. At all. There is no doubt in Dean’s mind that Cedric is now dead. 

 

“So I’m going to ask you again, Peter. How did he taste?” the buyer asks, dark eyes settling on the now visibly trembling demon. But in a flash both he, Lucas and Winston disappear in a sudden rush of smoke and whirling winds. Apparently they have just run away with their winnings. Probably a smart move on their behalf, Dean thinks to himself nervously.

 

Shuffling and shifting his weight from one knee to another, Dean stays in place. He doesn’t dare to try to run. It isn’t like he is going to get far with his arms bound behind his back and with a massive chain attached to his neck anyway. He instinctively pulls away when the buyer puts the back of his hand to Dean’s cheek, caressing the soft skin and stubble there.

 

“I’m gonna fight you…” Dean threatens.

 

“I hope so - it’s what I paid for.”

 

“I won’t stop fighting! Not until I have Sam back—”

 

“Yes, he will eventually complete my collection…” the buyer smirks, a strange and undecipherable expression spreading on his face.

 

“Your collection? We aren’t fucking toys!” Dean hisses, twisting his head away from the buyer’s unwanted caress.

 

“First rule where I am, Dean; you will learn not to swear. But we’ll have time for rules later.”

 

“You have no power over me! I will never take orders from you!” Dean says, glowering at the man with pure spite and hatred in his eyes.

 

“Oh, Dean-o…” the buyer says, and suddenly his hand is back to lift Dean’s chin upwards in an almost loving manner that makes the older Winchester’s skin crawl.

 

“I don’t need to have power over you,” the man merely says and grabs a hold of the chain as he starts to slowly walk towards the doors.

 

“What does that mean? You piece of shit!” Dean yells and starts to pull in the opposite direction, refusing to follow him out of the room.

 

“Dean, I am royalty and down here whoever has the strongest army wins.”

 

“You can count me out of your stupid war! I won’t fight for you!” the hunter snarls, trying to resist the pull of the chain that only seems to grow stronger by the second. But his foot slips, and he is slowly but surely forced closer and closer to the large doors.

 

“I don’t want you to fight for me. I don’t need you to. I need you for the same reasons Winston used Sam against you. And that’s what you begged for right? To trade places with your brother?” the buyer snickers, looking down at Dean briefly.

 

“You don’t have anything to use me for…!? They took Sam! You want me to do anything, you’ll get him back!” Dean shouts in frustration, starting to lose the battle against the pull of the heavy chain.  It feels like an impossible tug of war.

 

“You’re not listening to me. You are nothing but bait for my end game!” the man snarls and yanks the chain hard - and Dean falls down, somewhat proud when he lands on his knees and not on his face. But his stomach is one big knot of sheer horror even though he tries not to let it show.

 

“And _if_ you’re not enough... If what I have planned for you doesn’t work…” the buyer says thoughtfully and suddenly lifts the chain so fast that Dean doesn’t have the time to get to his feet. Instead the collar is pulled hard enough to temporarily squeeze his windpipe shut, and he instantly wheezes.

 

“… Then we’ll get your brother,” the pale man adds coldly and tugs at the chain again, making Dean stumble forwards. 

 

“Now, come on. Your father will be very excited to see you.”

 

“My f-father!?” Dean spits in surprise, digging his heels into the cement as his mind races to put the information together.

 

“What the hell does my father have to do with any of this!? He’ll help you less than I will!”

 

“Look!” the buyer snaps, letting his more cruel side show for the first time when his hands shift to pull the chain closer towards him, reeling Dean in like a fish and giving himself an even better grip on the hunter’s neck.

 

“It takes a righteous man in Hell to break the first seal, and _daddy,_ well…” he snarls and yanks Dean closer to make him stare into those endless, dark eyes.

 

“… Daddy will pick up the knife. Or he’ll watch me tear his firstborn apart!”

 

“He won’t…” Dean says, his facial expression firm but not quite firm enough to be able to hide the fear painted on it. He cringes a little when he gets pulled close enough to smell a hint of sulfur on the demon’s breath.

 

“I need John Winchester to break that seal... And then I need _this_ ,” the demons whispers into Dean’s face, waving the Book of Arconsiel in the air with his other hand. Dean frowns, and the confusion in his eyes must be evident, because the buyer tilts his head a little, sighing in something that resembles annoyed impatience. 

 

“I’m so glad you got it for me, by the way. Wouldn’t want Lucifer to escape his little birdcage and claim the throne, now would we?” the black-eyed man says while a toothy grin grows wide on his pale face.

  

“See, I need this lovely, little spellbook to bind the powers of that seal to _me,_ so I can take _my_ rightful place on the throne. Call it a coup, if you like. But damn, boy, do you make it easy,” he scoffs and taps the book a little, his smile growing even bigger when he sees how the older Winchester’s eyes start to widen. 

 

“You… You…” Dean begins, but he can’t finish the sentence. It feels like the words simply evaporate before they can leave his lips. But inside his head they race around in a frenzied flurry, and he can actually hear his father’s voice strictly telling him how the Book of Arconsiel must never fall into the wrong hands. The urgency in his voice and the stern glare he had received when he was handed the heavy, leather-wrapped book spoke volumes - and he remembers asking his father what was so important about this damn book that it needed this much protecting. And that his dad had shot him one of those glances that told him not to go there. And so, he hadn’t. Instead he had obeyed and stopped asking questions like a good soldier.

 

Dean’s eyes grow a little wetter and he feels his chest tighten as he realizes just how badly he has let his father down. How much he has let Sam down. How he has failed in every sense of the word. And now it’s too late to undo any of it. Far too late.

 

“Yeah, let that sink in, Dean-o. You single-handedly gave me the key to the throne…” the demon whispers, almost as if he can read the hunter’s mind. Dean shivers, and he can’t even distinguish which emotion is responsible for that. All he knows is that his world is crashing down, making every single emotion he has ever felt bubble to the surface and explode inside his head. In the midst of all of that chaos, he latches on to the only two feelings he can stand to feel at the moment - anger and defiance. 

     

“My father’s never gonna break any seal for you!” he hisses, saliva spraying through the air to accompany the words. Undeterred the demon just narrows his eyes at him.

 

“Oh, yes, he is. When he sees me tearing you apart…” he says, gripping Dean’s shoulder and squeezing it hard enough to almost snap a bone. 

 

“... Piece by little piece…” he continues, his grip turning just a tad meaner and making the hunter suppress a scream. 

 

“... Then he’s gonna do just what I want him to do,” he says and a smug expression flashes across his features when he releases Dean from the iron grip, letting the hunter draw in a ragged breath.   

     

“But, if somehow that doesn’t work and he needs a little more persuasion…” the demon then says, lips twisting into a cruel smirk just as he turns away from Dean and starts to tug on the chain again.

 

”… Then we’ll show your father just what lengths you and Sammy are willing to go to for each other!”

 

 

 

 

**THE END**


End file.
